Avatar: The Legend of Rokan
by Esamitch
Summary: 15 year old Rokan is an outcast from the Fire Nation with the weight of her family's murder resting heavily on her young shoulders. Keen to get revenge on Fire Lord Ozai for what he did to them, Rokan returns to her homeland with a thirst for justice. But loyalty to her country throws her into conflict, and an enemy driven mad with grief seeks her blood...
1. Zoai

Chapter 1

Zoai

"Please. He took everything from me! I need your help!"

The peasant was on his hands and knees, groveling in the dust. He bore the bruises of a recent brawl, and the empty pockets of a recent mugging. He was dressed in the simple clothing of the Earth Kingdom; the brown rags hung loosely on his skinny frame. The foot before his face, clothed with dark grey leather and bound with red cloth, began to tap impatiently.

"You know, I don't _usually_ do favors like this."

"Yes, yes, but _please!_" begged the peasant.

The owner of the boot sighed and stood.

"I need you to tell me everything you can remember about your attacker. What did he look like?"

The peasant scrambled hurriedly to his feet and massaged his temples in an attempt to recover a memory.

"He-he was tall. And strong. Er...long, dark hair...he carried a-a knife."

The man looked hopefully into the eyes of his aid.

"Well then," came the sarcastic reply. "I'll just have to single him out from amid the thousand other men with long dark hair and knives. We're through here. Unless you can give me some _useful _information I'm wasting my time."

"Wait...WAIT!"

The peasant lunged forward as his only hope left and grabbed at the thick boots.

"_I remember now!_ He wore simple, dark clothes, but his top-knot bore a Fire Nation ornament!"

The feet kicked at the peasant, driving him away, and the quiet voice said:

"I'm not interested."

The peasant was left on the ground, weeping, as a dark shadow of the retreating figure passed over him in the light of the setting sun.

It all fell quiet when the door opened to the inn. Distrustful eyes glared over their mugs of tea and ale, and many turned their backs on the newcomer.

The girl who had just entered took no notice of the coldness exhibited by the people. She walked up to the counter, dropped a few copper pieces on the rough wood, and took the cup of tea that was hurriedly handed to her. She sipped it slowly and leaned her elbow on the counter, surveying the crowded room.

The girl wore a light brown suit, all one piece, which tied behind her neck at the top; the pants of it came down to just below her knees. A layered, dark brown skirt of thick material was wrapped around her waist, and over it was a dark red sash. Grey boots bound with red cloth covered her feet. Around her bare biceps were single gold rings, and she wore fingerless black gloves. Her dark brown hair was tied back in a pony-tail, and a white cloth was tied around her forehead. She stood there leisurely observing the inn for some time, till a burly Earth Kingdom soldier barged in.

The soldier swaggered over to the counter and demanded drink, slamming coins on the counter. The bartender jumped and scurried away. Smiling smugly, the soldier looked around as if ensuring those present had seen his display of dominance. His beady green eyes wandered across the faces of the people, till they came to rest on the girl, still sipping her tea and keeping her head down.

"And who are you?" he barked.

The girl said nothing at first. Hooking her foot around the leg of a stool, she pulled it closer the counter and sat down.

"I _said_, 'who are you'?" repeated the soldier through clenched teeth.

She took another sip of tea, watching the soldier slowly become infuriated out of the corner of her eye.

"Call me Zoai," she said at last.

"Is that your _real_ name?" demanded the soldier.

"You asked me who I was. And I am Zoai to you. Whether or not it's my real name was not in the original question."

The soldier gripped his mug till his dirty knuckles turned white. It was obvious that he was not used to this level of confidence being used around him.

"And where are you from, _Zoai?_" he said in a dangerously soft voice.

Zoai shook her hair into her eyes and kept her face in shadow.

"I come from many places. I travel a lot."

"Where were you born?"

"In my father's house, where do you think?" said Zoai, smiling to her-self.

The soldier slammed his fist down on the counter with a roar of frustration and anger.

"Do not disrespect me again! I was lenient with my discipline just now, but I promise I won't be again!" he shouted.

The corners of Zoai's mouth twitched slightly. Setting her teacup on the counter, she stroked the thick, black leather strap that lay across her chest and shoulder. She watched the soldier's eyes follow the strap to the sheath of a long katana resting on her back.

"You have been generous with your patience tonight. Thank you," she smirked.

Turning her back on the soldier, Zoai tipped the bartender and left the inn to the sound of much whispering.

.


	2. Life in Shu Min

Chapter 2

Life in Shu Min

Zoai absentmindedly kicked a loose pebble in the dirty street. It didn't go far; it was blocked by the flea-ridden cattle, the rickety carts and the molting chickens. It was trampled by the tired, peaceful people, and rolled through the mud by the never ending moist breeze. The Earth Kingdom village of Shu Min was alright, if you didn't mind the deathly boring way of life.

The sun beat down on Zoai's back, and sweat rolled down her forehead, further staining the worn white bandana. Biting tick-flies swarmed in her face, persistent even when she beat them away. She needed to go somewhere out of the heat, somewhere where she could get cool water. Shouldering her way through the lazy crowd that tramped on continuously, with no regard for where they were going, Zoai squeezed over to a small tea shop.

The crowd was pushing against her so forcefully that Zoai lost her balance and fell through the door, accidentally knocking a teacup out of an old serving man's hand. With expert reflexes, Zoai thrust out a hand and caught the cup before it could hit the floor. The jasmine tea it had held spread out in a large brown stain on the woven carpet.

"I'm sorry I couldn't save the tea," she said with a smile, handing the cup back to the wizen man.

"Oh, it is alright. I have more in the back. That is," he said quickly, "if you would not mind waiting a few moments, sir?"

The solitary customer at a corner table shook his head with a grin.

"Not at all, Hoshi."

The serving man bowed as far as his aged back would allow. Then, turning his attention back to Zoai, he asked:

"And for you, good miss?"

"A cup of water if you please. And some bread, if you have any."

Hoshi bowed again and scurried to the back room. Zoai wiped a bit of the spilled tea off her glove and brushed her hair off her sweaty forehead.

"Bread and water, huh? You've simple tastes," observed the customer jokingly.

Zoai shrugged.

"It suits me."

The man grinned and pulled back the second chair at his table.

"Please, join me."

Zoai nodded. Walking over, she slipped her katana over her head and off her shoulder, leaning it up against the table. She sat down heavily, cracking her knuckles absentmindedly. The man's eyes followed her movements for a little while, watching her as she re-tied one of the red bands on her boot. Neither spoke till they had been served.

"So," began the man, after he had sipped his tea, "What brings you to Shu Min village?"

"Oh, I'm just here for the sights," said Zoai sarcastically.

The man chuckled.

"I am Du Loh. I've been dragged here by my irrepressible thirst for a peaceful life. But now that I'm here, I despise it! This whole town moves as if it were half-asleep! No one seems to care about anything happening outside the gates, except those few who are unfortunate enough to have family members fighting in this accursed war."

Zoai took a drink of her water thoughtfully before replying.

"Perhaps this town is useful after all. Those who wish to escape the rush and fears of the other cities can come here, to experience peace and calm."

Du Loh laughed bitterly.

"They can go to Ba Sing Se for that. Don't tell me you actually _enjoy_ this dump?" he asked incredulously.

"I confess, I loathe it as much as you do. In fact, I plan on leaving it behind me as soon as possible."

"You know," said Du Loh thoughtfully, tapping his finger restlessly on the table, "you seem too young to be travelling on your own. Have you anyone accompanying you?"

"No...I travel alone."

Du Loh was quiet for a moment, studying Zoai's clothes and face again. He noticed how she gripped her cup, the muscles in her arm constantly tensing. Her shoulders were burned from the sun, and Du Loh thought he saw traces of small scars on her arms and back.

"You're a fugitive, aren't you?" he asked quietly.

Zoai did not reply, but merely took a bite of her bread.

"I hate this war," growled Du Loh. "I hate it! It has torn apart families, homes, and lives! It has sent hundreds of men and women to their deaths, and even more children to the streets! And it is all the fault of the Fire Nation."

Zoai shook her hair into her eyes and sipped her water.

"It is the fault of the Fire _Lord_," she whispered.

"It is the fault of the whole Fire Nation combined!" spat Du Loh, slamming his fist down on the table. "The Fire Nation is loyal to the Fire Lord, and thus they are one and the same!"

Abruptly, Zoai stood.

"We're finished with this conversation."

Slinging her katana back over her shoulder, she dropped a few coins on the table. Hoshi hurriedly came and scooped them up when he heard the clatter. Du Loh watched Zoai leave with a look of surprise on his face. She did not look back, but pushed open the door and was caught up in the sleepy throng of peasants once more.

Later that evening, after a quiet supper in a lonely corner of the street, Zoai wandered the twisting paths of Shu Min. The sleep-walking crowd had sluggishly made its way off the roads, retreating to the tiny shacks that passed for homes. Zoai was relieved to be rid of the stuffy, slow-moving throng as she walked to the center of the village.

In the heart of Shu Min stood a small shrine to the village's founder, Shu Min himself. There was a statue of the man, and a small garden, in which grew beautiful flowers of many colors. There was always a candle lit at the base of Shu Min's statue, to signify the life of the town. Sadly, the town was growing lazy. The candle had burned down till it was in danger of blowing out. The garden was filled with weeds, and the badly weathered statue was never repaired.

Zoai stood for a moment, looking at the statue. She didn't know whether to feel amusement or sadness when she noticed the bird's nest built on top of Shu Min's head. Yes, this town was lazy. It was lazy, uninformed, and uninteresting. Zoai was bored here, bored to death. She planned on leaving first thing in the morning. Yawning, she turned to leave, and walked right into a leather-clad fist.

Falling down hard on the uneven stone, Zoai gingerly felt her face. No blood, but there would certainly be a bruise. Slightly dazed, she looked at her attacker.

Du Loh stood before her, flanked by a group of soldiers. It was he who had hit her, and he now pointed a gloved finger at her.

"Arrest her. She's Fire Nation."

Zoai seemed stunned. Her jaw dropped and her eyes darted nervously between the soldiers and Du Loh.

"What? How dare you call me Fire Nation! I'm from the outer Earth Kingdom!" she cried in a frightened voice. Anyone could see that she was shaking.

Du Loh laughed bitterly with a smile that did not reach his eyes.

"You can't fool me. Those eyes are a dead give-away. Arrest her!" he shouted again.

Zoai brushed her hair away from her face, revealing sharp, bright eyes the color of gold. Her lower lip quivered.

"My father was a traitor to the Fire Nation years ago! My mother was from Ba Sing Se! Don't arrest me, please! I haven't done anything!"

The soldiers did not make a move to take her. One of them, a short, stocky man, turned to Du Loh and said:

"She's just a child, sir. Maybe it's not worth it."

"You idiot, she's not just a child! Does a child carry a weapon like _that_?" snapped Du Loh, pointing at Zoai's katana. "She's more dangerous than you think, so for the last time, _arrest her_!"

The soldiers looked again at Zoai's face, but instead of the tears they expected to see, they were greeted with a sarcastic grin.

"I'm impressed, Du Loh. You're not as stupid as I anticipated," she taunted.

In a flash, Zoai was on her feet with her hand on her katana.

"Who's first?" she smiled.

Life in Shu Min wasn't so boring after all.


	3. Returning Pain

Chapter 3

Returning Pain

Zoai groaned and rubbed her head. The world around her was sliding in an out of focus.

"You're alive!"

"AUGH!"

Zoai screamed and scrambled away from the face that was inches away from her nose.

"I thought you were _dead_!"

The face in front of her belonged to a scrawny little boy of about seven. His brown hair was untrimmed and unkempt, and he was dressed in simple, soiled clothes.

"Mikho! _Mikho_! She's alive!" he called over his shoulder.

Still dazed, Zoai turned her attention to a huddled figure several steps behind the little boy. It was a small girl, undoubtedly the boy's twin sister. Her dirty face was streaked with tear tracks.

"I-is she okay?" she asked in a quavering voice.

"I don't know...hey, lady," said the boy to Zoai, "I know you're alive, but are you okay?"

Zoai rolled her neck and shoulders and stood up shakily.

"I think so...what happened?" she asked.

"Oh, it was _sa-weeeeeeeeeet!_" squeaked the boy excitedly. "First you jumped waaay over the bad guys' heads, and then you were like _swish, swish, swooooosh!_-" here he imitated swinging a sword, "-and then one of the soldiers knocked your big sword away but you pushed him away and then you went _pow, pow!_-" now he feigned throwing punches, "-and you got rid of all of them except for the guy who wasn't a soldier. He did some craazy earthbending and he made a big rock hit you from behind. That one, actually."

The boy pointed to a good sized boulder that had cracked the pavement by Shu Min's statue. Zoai's eyes widened as she gingerly felt the back of her head. There was a good sized lump there, but no blood. That was good. But where was her sword?

"Why do you wear that white bandana?" asked the boy, pointing to Zoai's forehead.

Zoai felt the cloth around her head.

"It belonged to someone special. What's your name?" she asked the boy.

"Khomi," he said with a smile, "and this is my sister Mikho."

Mikho scrambled to her feet and curtsied clumsily. Zoai grinned and nodded a greeting, trying to ignore the throbbing pain in the back of her head. This proved to be too difficult, and she found herself stumbling to her knees. Mikho and Khomi rushed to help her back up.

"You should come home with us. Our mom can make you feel better," said Khomi.

"Thank you, but I shouldn't stay. I could put you in danger. Where is my sword?"

Mikho ran a short distance and picked up the katana carefully. With wide eyes, she handed it back to Zoai, who slid it back into its sheath.

"You two should be getting home. It's late," she said to the children.

"Won't you come with us?" asked Mikho.

Zoai said nothing, but turned her back on the children and began to walk away. They did not say a word to her, but she could hear the children following her all the way through the town to the gate where their footsteps stopped.

"Please stay, lady," said Khomi quietly.

"I already told you no, Khomi," said Zoai half-heartedly, "it is too dangerous for you if I stay."

"But if anyone came to hurt us you could just fight them off!" whispered Mikho.

"No. I'll not stay another minute in the town," said Zoai, a little sharper than she intended.

Mikho and Khomi looked to the ground and backed away sadly. Zoai hitched her katana higher up on her shoulder and turned away. Just as she was leaving, she heard Khomi say to his sister:

"I told you she wasn't the Avatar. The Avatar would _never_ turn its back on people who needed it."

For a moment, Zoai wanted to turn back. She wanted to prove the child wrong, to tell him that the Avatar wasn't the only one who could help people...but how could she? How could she help these people when she could not even help the people she loved? An aching feeling welled up in Zoai's heart as she left Shu Min far behind her and wandered into the darkened forest.


	4. Hooked Swords and Crooked Minds

Chapter 4

Hooked Swords and Crooked Minds

Zoai wandered the forest for hours. Every tree looked the same, every rock was identical. The fact that it was late into the night did not help either. The moon was high in the sky, but the thick foliage of the towering trees blocked what little light the moon shed.

Deciding that it was best to make camp for the night, Zoai gathered together what sticks and vines she could grope out in the dark. Using the shorter vines as ropes, she tied four sticks into two separate X formations. After pushing the sticks deep into the ground, Zoai placed the longest branch across the two pairs of poles. Finally, using the remainder of the vines, she attempted to make a decent covering for her makeshift tent.

Zoai was having a difficult time trying to keep her eyes open when she finally completed her shelter. Though the night was cold, she had neither the means nor the energy to make a fire. Wishing she had something warmer to wear, Zoai curled up in her "tent" and fell into an uneasy sleep. Her dreams were plagued with images of terrible fire and the screams of those unfortunate enough to be caught in the midst of the inferno.

When dawn broke through the trees that morning Zoai was awake, with dark circles beneath her bleary eyes. The dreams of the night had denied her right to a peaceful sleep.

Rolling onto her stomach, Zoai reached for her katana. Grabbing hold of the sheath, she pushed herself up on her hands and knees. After pausing for a yawn, she strapped on her katana and stood up wobbly. Breakfast was not in the picture for her tired mind. She lazily kicked down her shelter and began plodding off through the woods. She did not care where she went. She had no motivation for anything anymore.

Zoai walked deeper and deeper into the trees. More than once a rustling in the foliage made her jump in fear, but it always turned out to be a small rabbit-mole or something of the sort. Soon Zoai became hungry, and she fell to the task of scavenging what food she could find. The forest's bushes yielded little more than tart berries, but her rumbling stomach demanded satisfaction. Miserably, Zoai choked down the tiny fruits.

Just when she thought she was going to die of the boredom that surrounded her, Zoai's sharp eyes spotted something unnatural on the forest floor. Squatting down, she carefully brushed away the dead leaves that partially obscured a looped rope.

"Trappers, no doubt," said Zoai to herself. She covered up the rope without much thought.

A few more steps into the woods, and she was yanked unceremoniously into the air by another trap, left dangling upside-down. Her stifled yell reverberated feebly off the surroundings.

Zoai sighed exasperatedly.

"Brilliant."

Reaching around awkwardly, Zoai was able to draw her katana. Just as she was about to cut the rope with a single stroke, a blur of a figure leapt down from the trees and knocked her sword away. Zoai was about to scream when a white-gloved hand clamped over her mouth.

"No one's going to want to save _you_, Fire Nation scum. I suggest you save your breath."

Zoai knocked the hand away.

"For what?" she snapped, "Is there going to be story-time later?"

Another voice laughed.

"Oh, this'll be fun, Smellerbee. Take her down."

The girl who had muzzled Zoai, looked surprised.

"Are you sure?"

"Trust me, 'Bee. I've dealt with Fire Nation before. We don't have to worry about her putting up much of a fight if we scare her enough," said the voice. Zoai could almost hear that the speaker had a sneer on his face.

"Do you have _any_ idea who you're _talking_ to?" growled Zoai.

Swinging her free leg, Zoai did a half flip and kicked the girl called Smellerbee in the shoulder. When she yelped in pain, she dropped Zoai's katana. Zoai hooked her toe under the handle and flipped the weapon up, where she caught it neatly in her hand.

Smellerbee swung a knife, but Zoai blocked it with her forearm, receiving a long but shallow scratch. With the knife avoided, Zoai sliced through the rope with her blade, landing in a tangled heap on the ground. Before she could right her limbs, she felt two pieces of steel grab her ankles and pull her through the dirt. Zoai tried to parry the attack, but a booted foot stepped on her wrist, causing her to release the hilt of the katana. She stared into the face of her attacker with disgust.

"Surprising. I guess we still have some intimidating to do. Smellerbee, tie her up, and then tell Longshot to send a message to the hideout. I might be late for dinner tonight."

The boy who was staring at Zoai so smugly shook his black hair out of his face. A piece of yellowed grass dangled from his mouth. Zoai glared at that face. It was so arrogant, so proud of this assault. Oh, she wished that face could get acquainted with her fist.

Smellerbee handed Zoai's katana to the boy and tied her hands together.

"Better tie her feet too. She's a kicker," said the boy.

Smellerbee gave Zoai a poisoned look and tied her ankles. No doubt she still felt Zoai's kick in her shoulder.

"She's secured, Jet."

"Good. Now go bring my message to Longshot. I'll be back later."

Zoai struggled and squirmed and threw every insult she could think of at this 'Jet', but it didn't stop him from picking her up and throwing her over his shoulder like a bag of flour.

"You're pretty feisty, I'll give you that," he said.

"Yeah, well why don't you untie me and I'll show you just _how_ feisty?" retorted Zoai.

"Nah, I think I get a pretty good idea," said Jet, grunting as Zoai dug her knees into his gut.

"No, you haven't seen _anything_ yet!" muttered Zoai.

Jet brought Zoai to a plateau overlooking Shu Min village. He dropped her to the ground and stood in front of her, fists on his hips, chewing the blade of grass.

"Boy, I'll love to see the look on your face when you hear what I have to say."

Zoai rolled her eyes.

"Bandits don't scare me. Stop trying to act intimidating and powerful and just get to the point."

A glint of steel and the feeling of cold metal on her skin made Zoai look at Jet again. He had drawn to swords, each curving to a formidable hook at the end. And now each hook was wrapped around her throat.

"Are you listening yet?"

Zoai gulped and hoped that her bangs hid the fear in her face.

"Good," said Jet.

Turning back to Shu Min, Jet sheathed his hook-swords and clasped his hands behind his back.

"Look at this village. It's completely overrun with Firebenders," he said, more to himself than to Zoai.

"Are you joking? There are, like, eight guards there, and they're completely useless."

"Quiet! The Fire Nation is sending Its disgusting occupants to take over this village, just like they've taken over dozens of other Earth Kingdom towns! People like you are infiltrating the Earth Kingdom without anyone noticing or caring. Luckily, my team of Freedom Fighters is beginning to rid this land of the intruders."

Turning back to Zoai, Jet drew one of his swords and pointed it to a large wall behind the village.

"Do you see that dam? Once I get enough supplies, I'm going to destroy it, and all the soot and smoke brought by the Fire Nation will be washed away."

Zoai's eyes widened.

"Are you crazy? There are Earth Kingdom people there! Families! Children!"

Her mind immediately went to Mikho and Khomi, adamantly waiting for the Avatar to save the world.

"Their loss is a small price to pay for the freedom we're giving Shu Min."

"You dunderhead, if you blow that dam there won't be a Shu Min _left_ to liberate!"

"We'll rebuild it, and keep it safe from the Fire Nation," said Jet firmly.

Zoai shook her head and struggled against her bonds.

"You're insane. You're killing innocent people just to get rid of a few overweight Fire Nation soldiers. If you're so brave and intimidating, why don't you take your little club and take out the soldiers individually?"

Jet growled in frustration and threw down his sword. Zoai saw in his eyes a strange glint of maniacal obsession that frightened her.

"_It's not just the guards!_ That whole village is infested! But not for long. My Freedom Fighters will save these villages by ridding them of the Fire Nation demons that take them over. We _will_ release Shu Min from its Fire Nation occupation…starting with you," said Jet, his eyes narrowing.

Zoai's heart pounded in her chest. She wasn't afraid of this kid before she had seen this obsessed side of him. Any other day she could've taken him, but now…now with her lack of sleep, lack of weapon, and the incredibly tight knots tied by Smellerbee, Zoai didn't stand a chance.

Jet loomed over her, fingering the hilts of his hook-swords. Zoai closed her eyes, waiting for the final blow, when she heard:

"Jet! You'd better come quick! Someone's found the hideout and they're trying to smoke us out!"

Zoai had never been so happy to hear Smellerbee's voice. She sneaked a peek at Jet's face and she saw worry spreading on his features. He looked back and forth from Smellerbee to Zoai, as if unsure of which task was important.

"Jet, please! It's really bad!"

Zoai saw Jet's knuckles whiten on the hilts of his swords before his fingers relaxed. Walking up to Zoai, he grabbed her by the back of her shirt.

"I wish I could dispose of you myself, but my Freedom Fighters are in danger. Family is most important to us. You probably wouldn't understand that, would you? Power is what you want. Just like your whole nation."

Jet dragged Zoai to the edge of the plateau. He looked her in the eye, black locking in on gold.

"I hope this brings you to justice for all the lives you've destroyed," he whispered bitterly.

Zoai screamed as he pushed her off the edge. The last thing she saw was the dam of Shu Min and the stack of barrels already assembled at its base.


	5. Someone Else's Memories

Chapter 4

Hooked Swords and Crooked Minds

Zoai wandered the forest for hours. Every tree looked the same, every rock was identical. The fact that it was late into the night did not help either. The moon was high in the sky, but the thick foliage of the towering trees blocked what little light the moon shed.

Deciding that it was best to make camp for the night, Zoai gathered together what sticks and vines she could grope out in the dark. Using the shorter vines as ropes, she tied four sticks into two separate X formations. After pushing the sticks deep into the ground, Zoai placed the longest branch across the two pairs of poles. Finally, using the remainder of the vines, she attempted to make a decent covering for her makeshift tent.

Zoai was having a difficult time trying to keep her eyes open when she finally completed her shelter. Though the night was cold, she had neither the means nor the energy to make a fire. Wishing she had something warmer to wear, Zoai curled up in her "tent" and fell into an uneasy sleep. Her dreams were plagued with images of terrible fire and the screams of those unfortunate enough to be caught in the midst of the inferno.

When dawn broke through the trees that morning Zoai was awake, with dark circles beneath her bleary eyes. The dreams of the night had denied her right to a peaceful sleep.

Rolling onto her stomach, Zoai reached for her katana. Grabbing hold of the sheath, she pushed herself up on her hands and knees. After pausing for a yawn, she strapped on her katana and stood up wobbly. Breakfast was not in the picture for her tired mind. She lazily kicked down her shelter and began plodding off through the woods. She did not care where she went. She had no motivation for anything anymore.

Zoai walked deeper and deeper into the trees. More than once a rustling in the foliage made her jump in fear, but it always turned out to be a small rabbit-mole or something of the sort. Soon Zoai became hungry, and she fell to the task of scavenging what food she could find. The forest's bushes yielded little more than tart berries, but her rumbling stomach demanded satisfaction. Miserably, Zoai choked down the tiny fruits.

Just when she thought she was going to die of the boredom that surrounded her, Zoai's sharp eyes spotted something unnatural on the forest floor. Squatting down, she carefully brushed away the dead leaves that partially obscured a looped rope.

"Trappers, no doubt," said Zoai to herself. She covered up the rope without much thought.

A few more steps into the woods, and she was yanked unceremoniously into the air by another trap, left dangling upside-down. Her stifled yell reverberated feebly off the surroundings.

Zoai sighed exasperatedly.

"Brilliant."

Reaching around awkwardly, Zoai was able to draw her katana. Just as she was about to cut the rope with a single stroke, a blur of a figure leapt down from the trees and knocked her sword away. Zoai was about to scream when a white-gloved hand clamped over her mouth.

"No one's going to want to save _you_, Fire Nation scum. I suggest you save your breath."

Zoai knocked the hand away.

"For what?" she snapped, "Is there going to be story-time later?"

Another voice laughed.

"Oh, this'll be fun, Smellerbee. Take her down."

The girl who had muzzled Zoai, looked surprised.

"Are you sure?"

"Trust me, 'Bee. I've dealt with Fire Nation before. We don't have to worry about her putting up much of a fight if we scare her enough," said the voice. Zoai could almost hear that the speaker had a sneer on his face.

"Do you have _any_ idea who you're _talking_ to?" growled Zoai.

Swinging her free leg, Zoai did a half flip and kicked the girl called Smellerbee in the shoulder. When she yelped in pain, she dropped Zoai's katana. Zoai hooked her toe under the handle and flipped the weapon up, where she caught it neatly in her hand.

Smellerbee swung a knife, but Zoai blocked it with her forearm, receiving a long but shallow scratch. With the knife avoided, Zoai sliced through the rope with her blade, landing in a tangled heap on the ground. Before she could right her limbs, she felt two pieces of steel grab her ankles and pull her through the dirt. Zoai tried to parry the attack, but a booted foot stepped on her wrist, causing her to release the hilt of the katana. She stared into the face of her attacker with disgust.

"Surprising. I guess we still have some intimidating to do. Smellerbee, tie her up, and then tell Longshot to send a message to the hideout. I might be late for dinner tonight."

The boy who was staring at Zoai so smugly shook his black hair out of his face. A piece of yellowed grass dangled from his mouth. Zoai glared at that face. It was so arrogant, so proud of this assault. Oh, she wished that face could get acquainted with her fist.

Smellerbee handed Zoai's katana to the boy and tied her hands together.

"Better tie her feet too. She's a kicker," said the boy.

Smellerbee gave Zoai a poisoned look and tied her ankles. No doubt she still felt Zoai's kick in her shoulder.

"She's secured, Jet."

"Good. Now go bring my message to Longshot. I'll be back later."

Zoai struggled and squirmed and threw every insult she could think of at this 'Jet', but it didn't stop him from picking her up and throwing her over his shoulder like a bag of flour.

"You're pretty feisty, I'll give you that," he said.

"Yeah, well why don't you untie me and I'll show you just _how_ feisty?" retorted Zoai.

"Nah, I think I get a pretty good idea," said Jet, grunting as Zoai dug her knees into his gut.

"No, you haven't seen _anything_ yet!" muttered Zoai.

Jet brought Zoai to a plateau overlooking Shu Min village. He dropped her to the ground and stood in front of her, fists on his hips, chewing the blade of grass.

"Boy, I'll love to see the look on your face when you hear what I have to say."

Zoai rolled her eyes.

"Bandits don't scare me. Stop trying to act intimidating and powerful and just get to the point."

A glint of steel and the feeling of cold metal on her skin made Zoai look at Jet again. He had drawn to swords, each curving to a formidable hook at the end. And now each hook was wrapped around her throat.

"Are you listening yet?"

Zoai gulped and hoped that her bangs hid the fear in her face.

"Good," said Jet.

Turning back to Shu Min, Jet sheathed his hook-swords and clasped his hands behind his back.

"Look at this village. It's completely overrun with Firebenders," he said, more to himself than to Zoai.

"Are you joking? There are, like, eight guards there, and they're completely useless."

"Quiet! The Fire Nation is sending Its disgusting occupants to take over this village, just like they've taken over dozens of other Earth Kingdom towns! People like you are infiltrating the Earth Kingdom without anyone noticing or caring. Luckily, my team of Freedom Fighters is beginning to rid this land of the intruders."

Turning back to Zoai, Jet drew one of his swords and pointed it to a large wall behind the village.

"Do you see that dam? Once I get enough supplies, I'm going to destroy it, and all the soot and smoke brought by the Fire Nation will be washed away."

Zoai's eyes widened.

"Are you crazy? There are Earth Kingdom people there! Families! Children!"

Her mind immediately went to Mikho and Khomi, adamantly waiting for the Avatar to save the world.

"Their loss is a small price to pay for the freedom we're giving Shu Min."

"You dunderhead, if you blow that dam there won't be a Shu Min _left_ to liberate!"

"We'll rebuild it, and keep it safe from the Fire Nation," said Jet firmly.

Zoai shook her head and struggled against her bonds.

"You're insane. You're killing innocent people just to get rid of a few overweight Fire Nation soldiers. If you're so brave and intimidating, why don't you take your little club and take out the soldiers individually?"

Jet growled in frustration and threw down his sword. Zoai saw in his eyes a strange glint of maniacal obsession that frightened her.

"_It's not just the guards!_ That whole village is infested! But not for long. My Freedom Fighters will save these villages by ridding them of the Fire Nation demons that take them over. We _will_ release Shu Min from its Fire Nation occupation…starting with you," said Jet, his eyes narrowing.

Zoai's heart pounded in her chest. She wasn't afraid of this kid before she had seen this obsessed side of him. Any other day she could've taken him, but now…now with her lack of sleep, lack of weapon, and the incredibly tight knots tied by Smellerbee, Zoai didn't stand a chance.

Jet loomed over her, fingering the hilts of his hook-swords. Zoai closed her eyes, waiting for the final blow, when she heard:

"Jet! You'd better come quick! Someone's found the hideout and they're trying to smoke us out!"

Zoai had never been so happy to hear Smellerbee's voice. She sneaked a peek at Jet's face and she saw worry spreading on his features. He looked back and forth from Smellerbee to Zoai, as if unsure of which task was important.

"Jet, please! It's really bad!"

Zoai saw Jet's knuckles whiten on the hilts of his swords before his fingers relaxed. Walking up to Zoai, he grabbed her by the back of her shirt.

"I wish I could dispose of you myself, but my Freedom Fighters are in danger. Family is most important to us. You probably wouldn't understand that, would you? Power is what you want. Just like your whole nation."

Jet dragged Zoai to the edge of the plateau. He looked her in the eye, black locking in on gold.

"I hope this brings you to justice for all the lives you've destroyed," he whispered bitterly.

Zoai screamed as he pushed her off the edge. The last thing she saw was the dam of Shu Min and the stack of barrels already assembled at its base.


	6. Heading North

Chapter 5

Someone Else's Memories

"Rokan. Rokan. Hey Rokan, wake up."

Rokan slid her eyes open and frowned at the figure that was incessantly poking her shoulder.

"It's so early, Taiko," she moaned, rubbing her eyes with a small fist.

"Yeah, but you need to wake up because _guess what_!"

"What?"

"Fire Lord Ozai invited you to the Palace! _Again!_"

"_What?_" Rokan screamed, flinging the blankets away.

Rokan's thirteen year old brother laughed his soft laugh.

"You heard me. Come on, get up. Mom wants you to look your best."

Rokan could scarcely speak from excitement. Leaving the bedcovers in a rumpled heap on the floor, she ran down the hallway to her mother.

A short while later, Rokan was on her way up to the Imperial Palace with her brother. Her heart pounded in her chest as she nervously straightened her Royal Flame ornament that held her hair away from her face.

"Relax. You'll do fine," reassured Taiko, putting a comforting hand on Rokan's shoulder.

"Thanks."

When they reached the gates of the Palace, the guards let Rokan in without a second glance. They were used to seeing this little commoner come to the Fire Lord for performances of Firebending. Rokan took a deep breath and turned, throwing her arms around her older brother.

"Wish me luck!" she whispered.

"You don't really need it, but good luck Ro'," said Taiko, patting Rokan's back.

"Thanks! Okay…here I go."

Rokan released her brother and walked through the gates and toward the looming, many-spired structure that was the Fire Nation Palace. The guards at the doors allowed her in, nodding politely. She walked through the courtyards, anticipation and anxiety building with every step. As she rounded the corner near the turtle-duck pond, she was greeted with a familiar voice.

"Rokan? What are you doing here?"

"Prince Zuko!" she exclaimed, jumping in surprise and making a hasty bow. "I was summoned by your father. He wants to have a sort of meeting with me."

"What? He didn't tell me," said Zuko disappointedly.

"Oh…sorry?" said Rokan, uncertain as to how she should respond.

"Hmph…oh well. Good luck," he said, punching her lightly on the shoulder.

"Ouch and thanks," smiled Rokan, bowing again.

She left Zuko at the turtle-duck pond, glaring into the water and fidgeting with the sleeves of his long red robe.

This was it. Rokan was standing in front of the curtain that led to the Fire Lord's throne room. She took a deep breath and summoned up all the courage she could muster before she stepped inside.

"Ah, Rokan. I've been expecting you," said the Fire Lord, his smooth voice echoing off the walls of the chamber.

"My Lord," said Rokan, kneeling respectively.

"You may stand. Show me what you have been practicing," said the Fire Lord.

Rokan nodded toward the dark silhouette that sat behind a wall of dancing flames. She took her stance and breathed deeply, feeling the fire course through her veins.

Rokan put on a beautiful display of bending, spinning the fire in ways and shapes that delighted the eyes of the viewer. She demonstrated her fire-whip, cracking it left and right and snapping it upwards. The performance was concluded with a great show of balance, shooting fire from her hands and left foot continually while pivoting slowly on her right. Finally, Rokan pressed her hands down and exhaled before bowing to the Fire Lord.

The towering figure clapped slowly.

"Impressive. You have improved greatly, Rokan. You are a powerful firebender."

"Thank you, my Lord," whispered Rokan, delighted.

"I never thought I should see a display of power like yours at such a young age," continued the Fire Lord, "Your talents have surpassed even those of my daughter Azula."

Rokan's eyes widened. Never before had the Fire Lord compared anyone's skills to that of his prodigy of a daughter. It was the best compliment Rokan could ever have imagined receiving.

"Oh, thank you, sir, _thank you_!" Rokan exclaimed, bowing low.

"You are most welcome. Now, Rokan, I have a task for you. I know that I can trust you to carry it out correctly and…completely."

"Of course, my Lord. What…what do you ask of me?"

Rokan had never felt so much fear or confusion in her heart before. She just wanted to run, to get away from the Fire Lord. She ignored Zuko's questions when she raced past him in the courtyard. She sprinted past the guards at all the gates, and ran down the hill towards her house. Rokan was out of breath by the time she reached her little home, and she nearly knocked over Taiko who was giving water to a stray hamster-dog.

"Rokan! How did it g—…"

Taiko stopped short when he saw the scared look on Rokan's face. He dropped the water bowl and pulled Rokan aside.

"What happened? What's wrong?"

"Oh, Taiko! Fire Lord Ozai wanted me to do something for him. Something so awful…I don't know why he wanted _me_ to do it! He wanted me to—…to…" Rokan leaned in towards her brother and whispered in his ear.

Taiko pulled back, a frightened expression on his face. Rokan opened her mouth to speak, but Taiko put his hand over her lips. His brown eyes were staring at the ground and his brow was furrowed.

"Wait. Do you hear that?" he whispered.

Rokan stopped and listened. Clanking…loud, metal clanking. The sound of foot soldiers. Taiko stepped over to the window and peered out. Rokan could see over his shoulder that a group of maybe twenty Fire Nation soldiers were marching straight for their house. Before she could see more, Taiko ran back to her and began pushing her towards the back door.

"Taiko, what are you doing?" cried Rokan.

"Hush! Those soldiers are here for you. I'll try to hold them off. You, meanwhile, need to get as far away from here as possible," he said.

As they walked through the small house, the clanking grew louder. The soldiers were almost on their doorstep.

"But Taiko, what about you?"

"I'll handle this. It'll be fine, I promise. Just get out of sight and stay safe," said Rokan's brother, opening the back door.

Before Rokan left, she turned and threw her arms around her brother. She felt an unexplainable sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"Rokan, its fine. Go find a safe place. Now!"

With a final push, Taiko sent his sister out the back door. Rokan ran up a small hill behind their house where she hid in the bushes, watching her home anxiously. The battalion of soldiers banged on the front door, which was opened by Taiko. Rokan listened desperately, but she could hear nothing. She was aware of the soldiers entering the building. _Please, Taiko_, she thought, _Make them go away!_ Another instant and all the figures were out of her sight.

Several long moments passed, and Rokan fidgeted absentmindedly with the grass at her feet. She could not see any movement until…wait…what was that? Someone had lit a lamp inside the window. Were the soldiers searching for her in every dark corner?

The door crashed open and the soldiers hurried out of the home. The commander shut the door and pulled a cart in front of it. Another soldier did the same to the back door. Before Rokan knew what was happening, all of the soldiers simultaneously blasted the little wooden house with raging fires.

"No!" screamed Rokan, but the soldiers couldn't hear her over the rush of the flames.

Once they were sure the house was engulfed, the soldiers left. Rokan sprinted down the hill to her house. She wished she could do something, but that was the problem with fire; it could be started, but not even Firebenders could control it once it got out of hand.

After much heaving and pushing, Rokan got the cart out of the way of the back door. Then, throwing her arm across her nose and mouth, she ventured into the inferno.

It was so hot. The fires burned brightly and the thick black smoke stung her eyes and choked her. Struggling through the weakening structure, Rokan searched frantically for a sign of movement. The flames were rising quickly, and she could not breathe much longer.

"Rokan!" shouted a voice, muffled by the rolling clouds of smoke and ash.

"Taiko!" Rokan screamed back, but inhaled ash and smoke into her lungs.

"Rokan, get out of here!"

Her brother was running through the fiery prison. He pushed her and pulled her and tried to make her leave.

"I'll get Mom and Dad. You need to leave, _now_!" he coughed.

They were almost to the back door when the ceiling collapsed. Taiko pushed Rokan so hard she fell to the ground, scraping her hands and knees. When she looked over her shoulder, Taiko was prostrate on the floor, two great wooden beams weighing him down.

"Taiko!" Rokan gasped.

"Rokan, get out of here," whispered Taiko. His voice was weak and his breath came in short spurts.

"Taiko…no! I can't leave you," Rokan shouted. Tears were flooding down her cheeks, streaking through the stain of ash on her skin.

"Go, Rokan…be safe. For me."

Rokan forced herself to leave out the back door. But no…she could not just leave him there! She would have to go back. There was no sign of their parents. Taiko was all she had left. But as Rokan turned to save her brother, more beams fell from the ceiling and doorway, hiding his broken figure from view. The walls began to groan, and the little building was on the verge of collapse. Rokan could hear people screaming, and she saw the soldiers holding back the villagers who were trying to help. Heeding her brother's last words, Rokan ran up the hill that she had left just moments before, sobbing.

When she reached the crest of the hill, she turned to take one last look at her childhood home. It was almost completely destroyed; its walls were collapsed and the roof had caved in. There was no way on earth that her family could have survived this. The tears fell faster and Rokan cried like she had never cried before. She began to run. Away from this horrible place. Away from the Fire Lord. Away from this misery that now engulfed her heart.

Zoai groaned and shifted in the dirt where she lay. Her head ached and her whole body was bruised from her tumble down the cliff. When she opened her eyes and regained consciousness, she noticed that the ropes that had bound her hands and feet had been cut. There was no one in sight, but Zoai felt immense gratitude towards whatever kind soul that had taken pity on her.

But what was all of that before she awoke? All of those events, all of those memories. It was as if she had watched someone else's life. But she knew that was not true. Zoai knew deep in her heart that that was her own life that she had seen reenacted. That had been so many years ago, before she had to hide. It had been before she was forced to take on the alias of Zoai to keep herself safe. She had spent four long years as this cold character, trying to keep her true personality a secret.

Zoai sat up and leaned against the wall of the cliff, rubbing her temples. Back with that boy, Jet, something had changed. She had felt her old self coming out again. And she was happy about it. Four years was too long to be living with an alias as well as a disguising personality. Zoai wanted to be herself again.

Though she was weak and tired and hurt all over, Zoai feebly held her hands out in front of her. Cupping them gently, she did what she had not dared to do since that horrible day in her past.

A small golden flame flared up within her palms. Zoai urged it to grow. She used the energy that coursed through her veins to nurture this little flicker of life. It grew and grew till her hands were covered in dancing light. Tears welled up in Zoai's eyes as the joy of fire filled her. This was who she was.

Standing shakily, Zoai adjusted her katana. Four years is a long time. Fire Lord Ozai had probably forgotten about her. She did not need this disguise any longer.

That day, it was Zoai who had been pushed down the cliff. But that evening, it was Rokan who left its base. She made her way across the sunlit landscape, a new fire dancing in her eyes as well as her open hands.


	7. Fatal Mistake

Chapter 7

Fatal Mistake

"You honestly couldn't find a smaller size?" said Rokan incredulously as she attempted to adjust a second-hand Fire Nation tunic. The hem that was meant to meet her knees dragged on the floor, and the long sleeves covered her hands.

"Deal with it."

The short soldier turned his back on Rokan. Though he was a grown man, his narrow shoulders stood inches below Rokan's own shoulders. His uniform was immaculately clean, and Rokan could tell from the painstakingly labeled cupboards in his quarters that he prided himself on his organization skills.

"No need to get snippy with me," drawled Rokan.

The soldier made a scoffing noise, turning back to glare at Rokan.

"I have _every right_ to be snippy with you! How can the Commander possibly think it is right to leave _me_ in the colony while she takes _you,_ a lazy, immature, inexperienced child, on a special operation?"

Anger bubbled up inside of Rokan. Swinging her arm back, she drew her katana and thrust it beneath the little man's nose, displaying a nicked and chipped blade.

"_Inexperienced_? Listen, Smidgeon, do you think this thing dents up by itself?"

The soldier knocked the katana away with the back of his hand, a sour expression spreading on his face.

"Very witty of you. Why don't you go ask the Commander, seeing as how you're her new favorite?"

Rokan opened her mouth to retaliate when a shout rose from outside, sounding the tanks' departure.

"Better hurry. You wouldn't want to be _left behind_," the man said with false concern.

With a roll of her amber eyes, Rokan turned her back on the little man. As she walked out of the barracks, she hiked up the deep red tunic, bunching it about her waist and tying it. She picked up her katana, which was propped against the doorway, and slung it over her shoulder, adjusting it with difficulty over the bulky folds of fabric.

Outside, all the soldiers were ready to leave. Men and women alike had piled into the tanks, and the great metal beasts roared to life. Commander Mei Lee beckoned to Rokan from her position beside the lead tank. She was dressed in full armor, and at her hip was a long knife.

"Come, Rokan. You're to travel with me."

"Sure," said Rokan casually as she strutted up to the hulking machine.

Mei Lee put a hand on Rokan's shoulder, forcing her to a stop. With a scowl on her face, the older woman leaned forward to whisper in Rokan's ear.

"You had better change your attitude towards me if you want to stay on this mission. One more hint of disrespect and you'll be thrown out on the mountainside."

It took all of Rokan's self-control not to roll her eyes or push away Mei Lee's hand. With a polite nod of her head, Rokan forced herself to be respectful.

"Yes, Commander."

Mei Lee scowled and pushed Rokan towards the tank. With a little difficulty, Rokan climbed up the wheels and slipped into the cramped space. There was one other soldier in there; a man whose face was hidden by his helmet. He was bent over, examining the controls, and Rokan had difficulty maneuvering about him. Much to her annoyance, he pointed her to a small corner of the fuselage, where she was forced to crouch.

The load voice of Mei Lee shouted that all were to move out. With an agility far superior to Rokan's, the Commander dropped into the tank.

"Move out. Northern Air Temple, here we come," she said menacingly, adjusting her helmet.

Rokan did not know how she managed to sleep in that jolting, cramped vehicle, but her exhaustion must have gotten the better of her. She snapped awake when the tank came to a lurching stop. Mei Lee's face came into focus before her.

"We let you off here, Rokan. Here are your supplies."

Mei Lee held out a small sack that was filled with small, hard objects, which Rokan knew were metal-encased explosives. Shivering, Rokan took the pouch and held it close.

"We appreciate your service, Rokan," said Mei Lee as she pushed open the hatch, "Keep warm out there."

Rokan landed with a soft crunch in the snow, her breath showing in front of her like puffs of smoke. Turning back to the tank, Rokan winked and nodded to Mei Lee.

"No problem, Commander. See you."

Mei Lee nodded and closed the hatch, trying to fight the smile that was threatening to appear on her weathered face. The group of tanks proceeded up the mountain, leaving Rokan alone in the snow in the shadow of the great Air Temple.

Rokan had never seen anything like it before in her life. The Fire Nation Palace was grand indeed, but its smoke-spewing chimneys and dark golden halls could not compare to the raw beauty of this towering place of refuge. The pale grey stone peeked out from between the passing clouds, and sharp green spires thrust into the air like blades. This great temple balanced on the steepest edges of the mountains without the slightest hint of instability…a feat that even the Fire Nation's best architects had difficulty accomplishing. Rokan became aware that the sound of the tanks had died down, and she knew that she was meant to continue her journey. However, something caught her eye at the Air Temple; something that surely did not belong in this deserted monument.

Smoke.

Narrow pillars of dark smoke were rising from the Temple's turrets, curling into the air and dispersing. Smoke could not exist without fire, and fire did not just create itself. Perhaps the Avatar was practicing his Firebending, or maybe he had left a campfire burning…but why were there so many?

A loud thumping noise drew Rokan's attention away from the smoke. Glancing up towards the summit of the mountain she saw countless foot soldiers marching their way up to the Temple. Her instant of confusion was ended when she recalled Mei Lee telling her that several squadrons of soldiers from many different Fire Nation colonies had been sent to the Temple a few days earlier. The cracking sound of the tanks' spiked wheels digging into the frozen snow echoed all around the mountains. The Avatar surely could not defend himself from such an army.

Pulling a map of the Air Temple out of her bag, Rokan began to climb the mountainside, heating her hands with Firebending to melt the snow on the rocks. By the looks of the looming Temple, she still had a long way to climb.

After about fifteen minutes, Rokan stopped on a small ledge to take a rest. Panting, she rolled up the sleeves of her oversized tunic and studied the map. _Not much farther now_, she thought, glancing up at the Temple. There was what appeared to be a natural entrance into the underground chamber just about a hundred feet up the mountain. Tucking the map back into her bag of explosives, Rokan resumed her climb, reaching the chamber's entrance in a few short minutes.

The opening to the hidden room was a large ravine, delving deep into the mountainside. Rokan took a coil of rope that the Commander had placed in her bag and fastened it to a stable boulder near the edge of the chasm. Tying the end of the rope around her waist and around the sack, Rokan began the slow descent into the darkness.

When Rokan's booted feet hit solid ground the sky was visible fifty feet above her. Her rugged journey had tired her, and Rokan tugged her bulky tunic off.

"Ugh, it smells awful down here! Like rotten eggs," mumbled Rokan, putting her hand over her nose and mouth.

Quartz was naturally crystalized into the cavern's walls, reflecting the greyish light that shone down from the chasm's opening. Rokan's eyes adjusted to the darkness, and she did not feel the need to Firebend for light. As she ventured into the cave she began to feel slightly dizzy, but dismissed this without a second thought. She _was_ underground, after all, and she had exerted much energy during her climb.

After a short time the heavily textured stalactites and stalagmites turned into smoothed columns. The rock and dirt floor had become a marble path, set with swirling motifs. The craggy roof made a flawless transition to a sloping ceiling.

_I suppose I should start setting up the explosives,_ thought Rokan, stumbling a little from her light-headedness. Dust fell from the ceiling as loud noises sounded from above. By the muffled sounds of the advancing tanks, Rokan deduced that the Fire Nation was on the way to victory.

_I'm surprised the Avatar hasn't given up yet. He's clearly outnumbered_.

Rokan shrugged and bent over her bag, pulling out the explosives that Mei Lee had given her. The rumbles of the ongoing battle did not concern her. After setting the explosives, Rokan stepped back to ensure that she had done everything correctly.

Rokan was prepared to leave when a shattering boom sounded in the cave, sending tremors through the floor and ceiling. She felt a growing heat on her back and turned, a feeling of dread sinking into her stomach. The sight that met her eyes was a heart-stopping explosion rushing towards her.

Panic took a hold of her mind, and Rokan tried to run. Her hands found a door, and in a desperate attempt to escape Rokan threw her whole body into the heavy wood. _Open! It has to open!_ Rokan screamed in fear and frustration as she smashed her shoulder against it. _No!_

And then all was darkness.

As the Fire Nation military left in defeat, Commander Mei Lee looked out at the damaged mountainside. She bowed her head in sorrow. Rokan had failed.


	8. The Crippled Healer, Part 1

Chapter 8

The Crippled Healer, Part 1: Bandages and Burns

Ashes, rubble, the stench of the deaths of a family. These things seemed to cling to young Rokan as she fled her childhood home.

_They might make it. They have to!_

Oh, the naivetés of a hopeful child.

Darkness fell on the forest. Huddling beneath a towering tree, Rokan became aware of something clutched in her hand. A white cloth, frayed at the edges. She recognized it as the material of her brother's tunic. Her little fist must have torn it off when the beam fell. As the child stared at the cloth, she came to the horrible realization that Taiko was not coming back. She was alone now. Tears dripped onto the soot-stained rag as Rokan fell into a tormented sleep, trying desperately to leave this nightmare behind. She never did escape.

Ashes, rubble, and a putrid smell. A blurred room spun around in Rokan's eyes as she attempted to focus on something familiar. Every breath brought pain to her ribs, every flex of her muscles agony to her body. She was either alive or dead, and neither option seemed pleasant.

"We thought you were dead," said a distant voice.

"You mean I'm not?" groaned Rokan.

Speaking made her head throb. Her arm felt like lead as she lifted it to rub her eyes.

"How long have I been out?"

"Two days. Stay put, I'm going to change some of your bandages."

Rokan summoned up enough energy to turn her head to look at her healer. He was young, maybe thirteen, with dark hair, grey eyes, and goggles perched on his head.

"Who-…who're you?" Rokan asked.

"My name is Teo," he said, unfolding long bandages from a pile on his lap.

"Well…don't you want to know who I am?" Rokan said wincingly as an unexpected pain shot through her arm.

"I know _what_ you are, and _who _you are doesn't matter. You're Fire Nation, and as soon as you're able to, you're leaving here and you're going to forget you ever came."

Teo began unwrapping a bandage from Rokan's left wrist in silence. His tone was not one of menace. He seemed to be repeating what had been told to say rather than speaking of his own accord.

"Why so—ouch!—unfriendly?" grimaced Rokan.

Teo's grey eyes met hers, darting back and forth sharply between the amber two.

"We have lived in peace here. We don't want that peace to be disrupted by another attack."

"I—_augh!_—I can't argue with that," said Rokan as the bandages fell away from her wounded hand.

Her palm was severely burnt, and her wrist was a sickening shade of purple. Glancing over to her other side Rokan saw that her right arm was completely encased in bandages that stretched across her chest and were bound from shoulder to palm.

"Are my legs still attached?" she said half-jokingly, trying to lift her head.

"Generally so."

"Well…I _guess_ that's good news_._"

Rokan put a hand to her forehead, trying to ease her headache. Sudden terror rushed through her as she frantically pushed back her bangs. Something was not right.

"My headband…where is it?" she whispered.

"You're what?" asked Teo absentmindedly, tying off the wrapping on Rokan's wrist.

"My headband!" gasped Rokan. _No, no, no! That was all I had left of them…._

The pain didn't matter now. Rokan ripped her arm away from Teo and used all the strength she could muster and pushed herself into a sitting position.

"Stop! You're in no condition to-," Teo protested.

The young boy tried in vain to push Rokan back down. Rokan herself was at war within, her body screaming in agony but her mind urging her onwards. _Look for it! You have to find it!_

"Please, rest!"

"I have to have it!" Rokan cried. Tears were streaming down her cheeks from pain and anguish.

"You'll kill yourself if you carry on like this. I'll try to find it," said Teo.

Rokan gave in and allowed the younger boy to gently push her back down onto the cot. She was aware of a burning pain in her fully-wrapped right arm. Glancing over, she saw dark red spots expanding on the white cloths. _But that doesn't matter now…_

"Promise me you'll find it," she begged weakly.

"I—I promise," replied Teo uncertainly.

Rokan closed her eyes and attempted to calm herself. Her illness and exhaustion forced her into a deep sleep, from which she almost did not wish to wake. For in her dreams she saw her family, and her home, and the old life that had been so cruelly torn from her. She returned to her childhood, to the time when she and Taiko used to climb on their father's shoulders and try to wrestle him to the ground. She returned to her mother, and once again stood at her side, gripping her hand as they pushed through the crowded marketplace. Also, Rokan returned to the Fire Nation Palace, where she used to play with Prince Zuko in the spacious courtyards. There was no happiness like this in her life now. The world had grown too harsh.

A soft orange light had filled the room when Rokan awoke from her slumber. Teo was nowhere to be seen, but distant voices could be heard through an arched window. Rokan became aware of a strange, sweet taste in her mouth and noticed an empty clay cup on a stool beside the bed. She assumed that it had been medicine, as her wounds no longer seared with pain when she moved. In fact, Rokan found she was able to push up into a sitting position easily, and when she brought her hand up to rub her eyes, she realized that there was something clutched in her fist.

Her headband!

Teo had been successful after all. Despite slightly singed edges, it was unscathed. Joy filled Rokan as she tied the old white cloth around her forehead again, feeling that Taiko was with her once more. Yet, sadness came to her as well; Taiko was dead, and this small strip of cloth could do nothing to bring him back. For one, short, terrible moment, Rokan doubted whether the headband was worth keeping. What use was it to her to keep a token that only saddened and angered her?

"No!" she snapped aloud, pressing her palms on her temples, "I have to keep it. It's all I have left."

"All you have left of what?"

Rokan jumped at the sound of Teo's voice. There he was, rolling in through the doorway…

Rolling?

Rokan's brow furrowed as she watched Teo enter, and her expression of confusion soon changed to one of pity. Teo was crippled, confined to a low, wheeled chair, his legs wrapped in bandages. Rokan wondered if this was a result of an accident or the work of the War.

"All I have left of my old life," responded Rokan, wringing her hands in embarrassment.

Teo wheeled over to the edge of Rokan's bed and gestured for her to hold out her bandaged arm. Rokan obliged, and the crippled healer began to unwrap the long strips of cloth slowly and carefully.

"What was your old life like?" he asked quietly.

"It was…peaceful. Perfect. I had everything I ever wanted," Rokan replied.

"And what is your life now?"

Rokan was troubled, and turned her face away from Teo. What _was_ her life? Had she done anything to be proud of? All those years spent as Zoai made her ashamed.

She noticed the silence of the room, and saw that Teo had paused in his removal of the bandages and was looking at her expectantly.

"Empty," said Rokan at last, "Deprived of justice…and answers."

"What do you need answers for?"

"I have to know why-…good Agni, that's horrific," gasped Rokan, interrupting herself as she caught sight of her maimed arm, burned raw by the explosion.

"Yeah, it is…you were lucky we found you when we did. A few more hours and you would have been dead."

"How did it happen anyway? The explosion?"

Teo finished rolling up the old bandages and picked a little clay pot up off the table.

"We were defending the Temple from the Fire Nation…from _you_. My father and another boy dropped explosives into the ravine, setting off a store of natural gas that's been conserved under the Temple for who knows how long. When we were clearing the wreckage a few people found you unconscious in the rubble with your arm still smoking. How did you get there anyway?"

_My arm was smoking? _"Uh, I climbed down through the ravine. I—I was going to collapse the columns in the underground room and bring down the temple. But your father's bombs got there before mine," said Rokan absentmindedly, "How is this thing still standing?"

Teo was trying not to smile.

"You honestly thought that blowing up a few columns was going to destroy the temple? The Airbenders might not have been the best fighters, but they knew how to build to last."

Teo had hit a nerve. Rokan's immeasurable pride had been damaged, and in unwilling defeat she snapped her face away from the cripple's gaze, glaring at the pale grey stone wall. She only returned her attention to Teo when she felt him rubbing a cool, soothing ointment on her arm. The shocking relief it provided for her wounds astounded her, and she immediately turned to stare.

"What…what _is_ that stuff?" she gasped disbelievingly.

"Family secret, but I can tell you this: my father says that my mother invented this salve for him when they were young, because he kept burning himself on new inventions."

Rokan smiled, still entranced as Teo gently rubbed the balm on her maimed skin. Her eyes might have been playing tricks on her, but Rokan could have sworn that the burns were fading right before her eyes.

"Did your mother teach you about healing?" Rokan asked.

Teo's cast his grey eyes downwards in sadness as he began binding Rokan's arm.

"No. She died when I was very small, in the same flood that made me like this," he said, nodding his head to his wheeled chair.

Pity and understanding welled in Rokan's heart as she continued to watch Teo. Here was a boy who, like herself, had lost his mother.

"I'm sorry…I lost my mother too. Four years ago. I'm sorry that your mother died when you were so young."

"Actually, I feel more sorry for you," said Teo, locking eyes with Rokan, "I barely remember my mother, but you…you knew your mother your whole life. You had to go through the pain of losing someone you loved, who was with you every day. I didn't have to suffer that."

Rokan tried in vain to hide her emotions, but she could not stop her face from paling in sadness and anger. Teo was right…Rokan had to live through the agony of remembering her mother's death. But more than that, Rokan had to try to resist her thirst for revenge.

"How did she die?"

Teo's voice was barely a whisper. The sun had completed its descent behind the mountains, allowing the half-moon to be the only light within the chamber. Chill winds began to whistle through the peaks, sending bitter coldness through Rokan that only magnified the coldness and emptiness within her heart.

"She died in innocence. She died because I was too much of a coward to follow my orders."


	9. The Crippled Healer, Part 2

Chapter 9

The Crippled Healer, Part 2: Breaking the Barrier

Speaking these words to Teo suddenly affirmed to Rokan what she had been feeling in her heart for all of those years. No matter how hard she tried to look for an alternate explanation, she had no one to blame for her family's death but herself. Their blood stained her hands.

"What happened?"

Teo was no longer making simple conversation while tending to Rokan's injuries. His young face bore an expression of concern, and the old bandages lay abandoned on his lap. Rokan could not break his gaze and was barely aware that her hands were clenched in trembling fists.

"How many people have you told this to?" he asked.

"Honestly…no one. I'm not even sure I've told myself," admitted Rokan.

Teo adjusted his wheelchair and leaned forward, resting his hand on the blankets just inches from Rokan's own fingers.

"Let it out now. Keeping this bottled up inside of you isn't doing you any favors."

"Oh, you think it's easy for me to just blurt out all the facts of my family's death?" Suddenly defensive, Rokan released a few orange sparks from her fists. "There's a reason I haven't told anyone about this; it's too painful."

Teo shook his head stubbornly.

"It's not too painful. You're ashamed of you mistake. Let go of your pride and put your conscience at rest."

_How is it that I've just met you and you can already see right through me?_ Rokan wondered bitterly. What choice did she have? She had created the first break in the dam that held her emotions back and she could not turn away now. The time had come to obliterate the obstruction at last.

"I should tell you that I was born with a natural talent for Firebending. I couldn't exactly rival the great master Jeong Jeong, but I found the fire easy to harness. My mother was a minstrel and attendant for Princess Ursa of the Fire Nation, and our family was always welcomed at the Palace. I used to train in Firebending with Prince Zuko and his sister Azula, learning from their own private tutors.

"One day, coming back from a day of training, I found a few boys from the Firebending Academy harassing my brother…my beloved, dearest older brother…because he wasn't a Bender. They challenged him to an Agni Kai, and when he didn't respond, one of them burned his arm. Outraged, I unleashed a fury that I didn't know could come from me. I actually wound up disintegrating one poor merchant's stand," Rokan snickered. It seemed almost comical in retrospect.

"I guess the boys reported me to the Palace. But instead of the punishment they wanted me to get, I was given my own private sessions from the greatest masters around. I trained for several years. My tutor discovered that I had a temper problem that caused my Firebending to be exceedingly dangerous, but he soon taught me to control it. By the time I was ten I was a master.

"Shortly after I had turned eleven, Fire Lord Ozai called me to the Palace for a performance. I was thrilled…not even Prince Zuko experienced such honors. I pranced my little way up to the Palace and did my very best job for the Fire Lord. He seemed pleased with my progress…he actually told me that I was a better Firebender than his daughter, though I doubt that was true. I went through the usual procedures…endless thanking for his compliments, unbelievable modesty, and so forth. Then, the Fire Lord called me closer and…he asked me a question."

Already the recount of her past was wearing Rokan out, but she sank down on her pillow and continued.

"Something you ought to know about Fire Lord Ozai is this: he is a great leader. Yes, he is a tyrant, but he knows what he is doing and he does it well. He trusts his generals and commands them thoroughly and effectively.

"Apparently, Ozai caught a whiff of rebellion among one of his generals, a man called General Fao. Ozai knew that Fao wanted to overthrow the government and take the place of the Fire Lord, but he would not allow it. He needed to dispose of Fao quietly…and permanently."

Rokan's heart was pounding hard in her chest as she recalled her meeting with the Fire Lord as clearly as if it were yesterday. When she closed her eyes she could see him; that dark, imposing figure seated behind a rail of flame, leering down at his frightened guest.

"Fao was a generous man…if I played the part of a lost child he would easily take me into his home. Once I got that far, I was supposed to put my hard earned talents to work. The Fire Lord's words to me were these: 'He will expect nothing from you. When the two of you are out of sight, show him how gravely he has erred.'

"I was confused and frightened. To me, the Fire Lord had always been a symbol of perfection and kindness. How could he expect me to commit an assassination? When I didn't respond, he became angry and demanded I answer his command with obedience. All I could do was shake my head and run. I thought that if my feet flew swiftly enough I could outrun my terror. But I was wrong. He sent his soldiers after me but I escaped…I lived when all my family was killed protecting me. Ever since that day I have strived to build my courage. I won't be the coward who watches others die any longer."

Hot tears ran steadily down Rokan's cheeks and onto her neck, releasing with them four years' worth of bottled up shame and anxiety. It felt as if a weight had been lifted off of her chest, though some sorrow still tugged at her heart. But that was only natural, wasn't it? One could never fully recover from a trauma such as she had suffered.

"You said that the Fire Lord is a good leader?"

Teo's voice startled Rokan; she had almost forgotten his presence. She looked at the young healer, unashamed of her tears. He bore an expression of confusion and curiosity rather than the compassion and sadness she had expected of him.

"Well…yeah, I did."

Teo shook his head, almost smiling.

"He doesn't seem to think things through from what you've just told me."

Anger and frustration rose in Rokan as she readjusted herself in her bed. She had just told Teo about the most traumatic experience in her life, and he was expecting her to talk about the Fire Lord's leadership skills?

"What do you mean? How did—ugh, what am I saying? Why does this even matter? He _killed_ my family, and you want to quibble about the way he went about ruining my life!" she snapped. "I guess you don't understand what I went through that day."

Throwing back the blankets that lay over her legs, Rokan made to stand up out of the bed. Unfortunately, her dramatic departure came to a halt when a searing pain shot through her foot the moment it made contact with the cool marble floor. Grunting in discomfort and disappointment, Rokan swung her legs back onto the bed in defeat.

Teo held up his hands in surrender.

"Okay, okay, take it easy. You're misunderstanding me. Please don't think that I have no feeling for what you've gone through. What I'm trying to say is that the Fire Lord has done a pretty awful job of seeing all this through to the end."

Crossing her arms with an air of obstinacy, Rokan flopped back into the cushy pillows.

"Please elaborate," she mumbled grudgingly.

Teo nodded.

"Don't mind if I do. What sticks out to me in your story is the fact that the Fire Lord obviously knew you were a great bender; after all, he trusted you to assassinate someone. If you're so great, why did he try to kill you? He should have captured you. Then he'd have a better chance of breaking you till you did what he asked of you."

"Maybe he didn't want to go to the trouble," argued Rokan.

"So he sent a whole division of soldiers after you in broad daylight to destroy a house full of people? There was more than enough of a chance that you could escape, and he should have expected that you'd come back for revenge. Why didn't he send anyone to make sure you were dead?"

Rokan's jaw dropped slightly in amazement. Teo was right…how could the Fire Lord have overlooked such a mistake? Something flared in Rokan's soul that she hadn't felt in a long time; not since she was hiding behind Zoai. Vengeance.

Rokan set her jaw. "Thank you, Teo. I know what I have to do now."

"What? No, stop!" said Teo in shock as Rokan again began to rise. This time nothing could stop her. Energy pulsed through her veins and drove her to stand, clenching her fists in pain though she was. She spotted her katana propped against the wall beside an arched window, still encased in a now charred sheath. As she began the slow, agonizing trek across the cool floors, Teo grabbed her arm at the elbow and held her back.

"I didn't mean to make you feel the need for revenge! I just wanted you to be more careful, because for all you know the Fire Lord could still be looking for you!" he said desperately, wheeling his chair around so he could better face his stubborn patient.

"Then I'll make his search easier! He won't find me, I'll find him. And by the Spirits I will show him how much he's erred by letting me live."

The voice that came from Rokan's mouth was scarcely recognizable. It was quiet, and edged with an almost crazed passion while being torn with discomfort at physical pain.

"I need to leave. Now. Where are my clothes?" demanded Rokan, realizing that she was dressed in nothing but a light green tunic and soft pants.

Teo's grip tightened on her elbow.

"They were unsalvageable after the explosion, and besides, you're not leaving. You can't. Look at what torture you've inflicted on yourself in just these couple of minutes!"

He nodded to Rokan's fully bandaged arm. Once again, the dark red splotches had begun to appear on the white cloth, this time more numerous and damper than before. In fact, small trickles of blood had slipped free of the bindings and dripped off Rokan's fingers, falling with a slight _plop_ to the floor. Rokan's head started to spin, and she gripped the back of Teo's chair to steady herself.

"How long?" she grunted.

"At least a week. Your arm is completely maimed, and you need time to regain your strength."

Rokan shook her head, a slight smile playing on her lips.

"I saw you with that healing ointment. You're good at what you do. Get me out of here faster."

"Well…maybe five days."

"Three."

"Four, and that's the best I can do. Even with that I'm not comfortable letting you go," Teo sighed.

Rokan's heart sank. Four days was a long time.

_But what are four days compared to the four years you've spent in hiding?_ Said a voice inside her head. Grudgingly, she had to agree. Deep down Rokan knew that she needed this rest. Four days of recovery would give her time to think about what she needed to do.

When Rokan awoke on the fourth day, there were storm clouds overhead, and the whole Temple was quiet as if it and its inhabitants understood the gravity of her decision.

Someone had left new cloths at the foot of the bed, and Rokan eagerly dressed. Whoever had put the articles together had thought ahead; due to the cold Northern climate, multiple layers were given, but all were able to transition to hot weather attire. With just a little wincing, Rokan tugged on a white long-sleeved shirt, a pale green vest, dark green bracers and a green belt. Next she slipped into dark grey trousers and brown boots that were covered with green stirrup greaves. Rokan chuckled slightly when she noticed the plain green ribbon that she was to use to tie up her hair. These Earth Kingdom refugees really had thought of everything. When Rokan caught sight of herself in a polished glass mosaic, the only things that were reminiscent of her heritage were her katana, headband, and bright golden eyes.

The tenants of the ancient Temple were all gathered in the courtyard for Rokan's departure. It was strange; she had never seen any of them before, and yet they all seemed to know who she was. In fact, the only one who Rokan had had any contact with was Teo, who would come daily for healing treatments and conversation. He sat now in his chair in the courtyard, looking at Rokan with a sort of concerned sadness.

Trying to ignore the staring eyes of the others, Rokan walked up to Teo and bowed respectfully, clasping her fist below her hand in the customary sign of the Fire Nation.

"Thank you for healing me. I'll be eternally in your debt," she said formally.

Teo didn't seem to hear her.

"What are you going to do?" he asked, "Are you going to just go and kill the Fire Lord? Because then you'd be just like him."

Partially disgusted that he would think her capable of cold-blooded murder, and partially touched by his concern, Rokan crouched down abruptly, staring up into Teo's face intently.

"Never. It is not my place to kill him…let that be done by someone else. Someone who has more to live for, more to defend. I…I will do everything in my power to thwart him, to ruin his attempts of world domination. He's going to regret forgetting me for four years. I'll start in the Earth Kingdom, and work my way South. Then I'll go back to the homeland, and he and his minions will be in for the fight of their lives."

"Be careful," said Teo.

"Don't worry about me, Teo. The only thing you need to do is retain hope. Have faith in the Avatar, if he's truly returned and you have met him as you said. But remember this: You don't need to be the Avatar to bring justice to the world."

Rokan stood and adjusted her katana strap.

"All of the kindness you have shown me during these last few days…I will repay it with my actions."

Turning away from the crippled healer, Rokan made her way to the Temple stairs which, after a short while, would lead her to the great gates and her path down the mountain. The people before her parted like reeds as she walked, slow and determined, her head held high and the beginnings of a flame flickering on her fist. Finally she knew where she was going. Finally she had a purpose. She had broken the barrier of her emotions, and now she could let her motivation shine through.

"Wait!"

Rokan paused at Teo's voice, already distant as she had reached the edge of the crowd.

"You never told me your name," he called.

Grinning, the warrior turned and glanced back at Teo, a shrunken figure at the end of an aisle lined by curious refugees. With a wave of her hand and her old spirit in her voice, she shouted:

"My name is Rokan!"


	10. Opportunity

Chapter 10

Opportunity

The path down the mountain was steep and treacherous; something Rokan had not experienced in the Fire Nation war tanks. Their tracks still remained, and she followed them as best she could. Her descent was slow; the winter months were coming to a close, and the ice that stiffened the snow had begun to melt, causing her to find unstable footing and sink hip deep in snow.

The ninth time she fell, Rokan's patience snapped. Feeling foolish, she thrust a huge fireball from her palms and sent it searing down the mountainside, obliterating all snow in her path.

"Don't know why I didn't think of that _before_," she grumbled, heating her hands and attempting to dry her soaked pants.

She didn't really know where she was going, but Rokan figured that Sa Ying wasn't a bad idea. She could reconnect with Commander Mei Lee, and maybe find out where her next mission was. Once safely in the ranks of the Fire Nation military, she could begin her sabotage. Of course, she still had to make it down the mountain.

Rokan paused and stared at the steep cliff in front of her and her heart sank. It looked like she was in for a few days of walking.

_At least the scenery is nice, _she thought, _Really pretty. I never got to see snow in the Fire Nation. Yeah…it's pretty._

By the third day heading down the mountain, Rokan had already melted away most of the snow on the rock face.

"I am so _sick_ of this _stupid_ white _slush!_" she shouted, blasting fire from her fists to accent her words of frustration.

To Rokan's great relief, the bottom of the mountain was in sight, as were the rooftops of Sa Ying. With luck, she would reach the village just as the first lamps were being lit.

It was easy to see the results of the Air Temple attack when Rokan entered Sa Ying. The great metal tanks lay abandoned in the snow, all of them in desperate need of service and repairs. Mei Lee's headquarters were dark, and loud voices came from the well-lit barracks. Rokan headed towards the barracks, her feet crunching through a fresh inch of snow. However, before she knocked on the heavy wooden door, she paused, catching sight of a poster tacked to the doorframe. On it was a caricature of her. Rokan chuckled; whoever had been assigned this painting must have had very little to base her features off of. The nose was too long, her face too thin, and the artist had been far too lenient with the size and shape of her eyes and lips.

_He made me look like some legendary beauty. _And_ he forgot my headband!_ She thought, half annoyed, half entertained.

Rokan turned her attention away from the picture and focused on the words beside it. Abruptly, her mood changed from one of slight amusement to complete and utter shock.

"_The Fire Nation Military mourns the loss of Rokan, a volunteer soldier who perished in battle against the Avatar and his forces. We remember her bravery and again stress the importance of the Avatar's capture. If you have any information on the Avatar and his whereabouts, you must—"_

But Rokan stopped reading there. So…she was dead? And what were all these lies about her dying in battle against the Avatar? She got blown up, and it would have happened anyway even if she had set her own explosives!

Rokan looked from the poster to the barracks door and back again. It probably wasn't in her best interest to "rise from the dead" and burst in on a hall of soldiers that all knew her to have perished. But how else was she to get information on the military's orders?

It was apparent to Rokan that she needed a disguise. Nothing too elaborate…a cloak would do. Leaving the barracks behind her, Rokan walked back down the street of Sa Ying. Conveniently enough, someone had left a ragged brown cloak abandoned on their water trough. Feeling that it was too old and worn to be truly missed, Rokan snatched it with ease, slipping her arms through the holes and drawing the hood up around her face. It amazed her how deserted the streets were.

"I guess this whole town just stops running after sunset," she muttered to herself.

A harsh cold wind blew in from the mountains. Realizing it to be too dangerous to try to find lodgings for the night, Rokan found a small space in an alley between two houses. There were crates stacked here, and if she curled up between them and the walls of the house beside her, she was well protected from the whistling wind. Uncomfortable though it was, Rokan was tired from her trek down the mountain, and within minutes, she was asleep. As the icy breeze whistled overhead, Rokan dreamed of snow, her home, and a gentle figure in a wheeled chair.

The sun shone in Rokan's face, blinding her awake. A fresh dusting of snow had settled onto the crates around her, and her hands were numb with cold. Her stolen cloak was stiff with frost and did little to keep her warm now. With some difficulty, she stretched her frozen arms and hoisted herself out from behind the protection of the crates. Her knees nearly buckled when her feet came in contact with the ground, and Rokan winced in pain. The cold of the night had done nothing to aid her burned skin.

Limping, Rokan made her way to the main street of Sa Ying. She planned on looking for an inn or a restaurant where she might find something to eat, but what would she pay with? She hadn't had money in her pockets since her cup of tea in Shu Min.

_Guess I'd better stoop to scrounging,_ she thought with an air of bitterness. However, this might not be such a bad idea; acting pitiful, homeless, and half-starved (the latter two being the truth) she wouldn't be threatened with the possibility of being recognized. After all, the military remembered her as the brave, defiant, rash teenager who looked into the face of danger without a second thought.

As the morning slowly turned to noon, Rokan's impersonation of a desperate beggar increased to the point where it was nearly a reality. Her stomach was empty and her energy low; it was almost difficult for her to drag herself from house to house, snooping around in the barrels for scraps of food.

Luck was waiting for her outside a suspicious shack that leaned haphazardly to the left. There on the ground was a basket of food scraps, no doubt put out for the mangy skunk-dog that was gnawing on the food halfheartedly with a mouth full of only gums.

"Sorry, but you can't eat half that stuff anyway," reasoned Rokan, pushing the skunk-dog away and taking the bowl into her lap. Stale bread and bones were the best the basket had to offer, but they would have to do. Rokan started with the bones, meticulously nibbling off whatever scraps of meat she could find still clinging to the surface. When the bones were through, she tossed them aside and tore into the bread. Within minutes, there were only crumbs which the skunk-dog proceeded to lick off of Rokan's hands and legs. When there were no crumbs left in sight, the skunk-dog rested its small bony head on Rokan's knee. Smiling slightly, Rokan stroked the animal's patchy black and white hair and watched what few people there were pass by.

"…they had word of some sort of monster in the swamps. The Fire Lord is having some of the Yu Yan Archers go and obliterate it."

Rokan's ears perked up and she listened closely as two soldiers began to walk by her.

"We get hardly any action in this place. Makes me wish I was Yu Yan myself."

A harsh wind suddenly blew through the narrow street, biting Rokan's cheeks and chilling her to the bone. The soldiers shivered and wrapped their cloaks tighter about their shoulders.

"Come on, let's go in here…it'll be warmer," said one. To Rokan's surprise, they began to make their way toward her…or rather, the shop to which the porch she sat upon belonged.

The gears in Rokan's mind flew. She didn't want the men to think she was listening in on their conversation. That could get her unwanted attention. But she didn't want to lose them either. She decided to wait patiently on the steps until they had gone into the shop, and then discreetly follow in after them and hope they didn't notice her. Yes, that should work.

"The wind is harsh today, child."

Rokan started at the soldier's voice. She hastily pulled her hood down over her eyes and bent her head toward her chest.

"Yes, it is," she responded quietly, "But I have nowhere to go."

This was indeed the truth, and Rokan could not care less about her lack of shelter. All she wanted to know was where the Yu Yan Archers were headed. However, the soldiers' faces bore expressions of pity. One of them, a man younger than the other, reached out his hand.

"Come inside, then. It isn't exactly first class lodgings, but it will keep you warm for a time," he said. His voice was raspy for one in his prime, and he held his left arm close to his body in a stiff manner, perhaps reminiscent of an old injury.

Keeping her head down, Rokan accepted the soldier's offer and put her hand in his. With little effort, he pulled her to her feet and guided her inside the crooked shack.

Once inside, Rokan wanted to back out and return to her place on the steps. The younger soldier was right; it was certainly not first class lodgings. Rokan wasn't even sure it could keep her warm like he had said. It was a curiosity shop…the worst of its kind. Just by glancing at the dust covered items Rokan could tell that the majority of them had been acquired under suspicious circumstances. A wizen, toothless old man stood behind a splinter-filled counter, greedily polishing a golden basin that was stained with a sickening dark red substance. An aroma of something awful drifted through the air to Rokan's nose. It smelled like rotting flesh…or worse. Trying not to gag, Rokan pulled her sleeve over her hand and clapped her palm over her mouth and nose.

The soldiers seemed unaffected by the stench, and they ambled away, pretending to browse through the moldy collections. Rokan considered following them directly, but decided to shadow them on the other side of the shelves. Just as she had hoped, they had resumed their conversation.

"So the Yu Yan Archers are to be wasted on a mission to the Foggy Swamps?" scoffed the older soldier, a weather-beaten man with snowy whiskers on his cheeks.

"Apparently so. The Swamp Monster has become a bit of a legend in the past few years, but the Fire Lord doesn't believe that it's just a myth, or a monster. His guess is that it's an uprising; a few rebels playing a trick on us."

"But why use the Yu Yan? They could be valuable elsewhere!"

Between a matching pair of cracked black urns Rokan saw the young soldier shrug.

"The mission was ordered by a certain General Zhong. I don't know his motives. I do know that the Fire Lord trusts his counsel."

The veteran soldier grunted in disgust.

"Zhong? Zhong still remains amongst the Fire Lord's generals? The Fire Lord must have good reason for keeping that old fool in his council."

"You know Zhong?"

"_Know_ him? I served under him for almost ten years. Long, terrible years…and before that, fifteen short and wonderful ones. Zhong was once a great leader. I respected him like I respected no other man. In fact, I think I looked up to him more than I looked up to the Fire Lord."

"And why do you scorn him so now?"

Rokan witnessed a distorted image of the old soldier shaking his head through a crystal vase.

"Zhong met a pitiful end at the great Siege of Ba Sing Se. The Dragon of the West entrusted him with a mission to break the defenses on the eastern side of the wall. But Zhong was drunk…he had broken into the supplies of the soldiers the previous night, unable to break an old habit. Every single one of Zhong's men died that day, including his own two sons. Zhong survived only because he had managed to hide in the enemy's blind spot, where he slept off his inebriation. It was the next day before Zhong realized his failure. His mind has been troubled ever since then."

Rokan flicked a dead spider-fly off of a carven chest in boredom. She had no desire to hear the depressing history of an addled general. She wanted information on the Yu Yan Archers.

"Maybe Ozai is a fool for sending the Yu Yan Archers away. But I cannot blame him for allowing this old general to do as he pleases. The Fire Lord has more important things to worry about than a Swamp Monster, things like the return of the Avatar. He probably tolerated the mission because it shut the old man up. Besides, it is not all the Yu Yan Archers who are to be sent away."

The older soldier sighed.

"Well, I suppose we must hope that there is indeed a rebel base in the swamps, or else the waste of those select Yu Yan will be for nothing. When do they leave?"

"The Archers depart from the Northern Fortress at dawn, two days from now. Despite the uselessness of their mission, I wish them luck all the same."

The skeptical elderly man scoffed in annoyance, and Rokan ducked behind a rotting wood chest as the soldiers came out to the center of the store. The toothless shopkeeper sprang up from his splinter-filled stool and cast a faded silk shawl that he had been examining to the side.

"Are you interested in making any purchases today, gentlemen?" he wheezed.

The soldiers stalked out of the shop without a word, slamming the door behind them with the aid of the whipping wind. The shopkeeper snarled and resumed his inspection of the shawl, muttering many unkind words under his breath.

Rokan waited for a few moments to ensure that the soldiers would have gotten a considerable distance from the shop before she came out from behind the chest. The Northern Fortress wasn't far from here; only about a day's journey.

"Interested in anything, little lady?"

Rokan jumped at the sound of the old man's rasping voice. She spun around and raised her arm in defense out of reflex. The man seemed to have rematerialized behind her, his wrinkled face inches from Rokan's own. A smile that looked more like a grimace spread on his lips.

"Well?"

"I'm not interested in any of your wares. I have to be going now, excuse me," said Rokan hurriedly.

Turning swiftly, she began to leave the shop, but not before a display of necklaces caught her eye. Hanging from rotting pegs were a variety of pendants and jewels, all covered with dust and corrupted by grime. Some, however, shone brighter than others. The last pendant on the stand was one of these more vibrant pieces. A gilded sun hung off a fine chain and swung back and forth slightly, though there was no breeze. On its surface was engraved a single eye, lidless and wide. Though it was only an ornament, the eye seemed to bore into Rokan's soul. Suddenly she felt more keenly the evil that had engulfed the world through the Fire Lord. Even greater than before was her urge to right the wrongs that had been done to the other nations.

"That pendant…where is it from?" she asked tentatively.

"That? It's an heirloom, centuries old, of an ancient noble family of the Fire Nation. I'm surprised those two soldiers didn't recognize it. Are you interested in, eh, bargaining for it?" The shopkeeper grinned greedily.

Rokan took an involuntary step backwards from the necklace.

"No. It…it has an evil aura about it. I don't want it. And if I were you, I'd get rid of it. Soon."

Turning on her heel Rokan hurried out of the pawn shop, leaving the shopkeeper second guessing his judgment on his merchandise.

Rokan was relieved to be outside and away from that disgusting place. She took several deep breaths of the cold fresh air, clearing her mind of the memories of the necklace and reminding herself that she had a job to do. She would have to set out immediately if she was to make it to the Northern Fortress in time.

Feeling something brush against her legs, Rokan flinched and looked down. It was the skunk-dog from before, looking up at her expectantly.

"Sorry, little friend. I don't have any food," she said sadly, rubbing the animal's scruffy head before leaving the porch.

The wind ceased to blow and a weak winter sun peered out from behind stark grey clouds, warming the air considerably. Rokan smiled happily at the warm light as she felt her chi grow stronger within herself at the touch of its natural energizer. Tightening the charred strap that held her katana in place, she set off down the main street, ready and willing to leave the sad little village of Sa Ying behind her for good.

Just before she reached the crooked wall that marked the boundary of the town, Rokan passed the house from which she had stolen the ragged cloak. Through the window, she caught sight of two figures who looked so alike it was no question of their being siblings. The boy looked about seventeen and the girl perhaps a year younger than Rokan. They were sickly and pale, shuddering near the light of a tiny flame. The boy tried in vain to warm his sister, offering her his own threadbare cloak. Rokan's heart sank; she had stolen this girl's only cloak. It _was_ needed after all.

Not caring if she was recognized for whom she was, Rokan pulled off the cloak and returned it to its former place on the empty water trough before stepping out of the village boundaries and onwards towards her opportunity.


	11. Sabotage

Chapter 11

Sabotage

After a full day of tracking the Archers, Rokan decided that her mission was hopeless. They were about two hundred feet ahead of her, leaping over the rocky mountain terrain of the North with superior speed and agility. They moved as one; an impossibly fast, intelligent creature that Rokan could never hope to mimic. It was proving difficult to just stay hidden from their impossibly sharp eyesight, much less infiltrate their ranks.

_Do they ever stop for a rest?_ She wondered in frustration as she clambered over a boulder that the Yu Yan had scaled in seconds. Despite her strong physical condition she could not keep up with the Yu Yan's extreme stamina and elite grace. Sweat poured down her face as she slid down the side of the boulder, her knees threatening to give way when she landed on the ground.

The Yu Yan Archers were nearly out of sight, and Rokan pressed her back against the boulder and slid to the ground.

_So much for my 'mission'_, she thought miserably.

Just then, the Yu Yan stopped abruptly like a well-oiled machine. Rokan instinctively froze, concerned that her exhaustion-induced carelessness had caused her to be seen. Her heart pounded in her throat as one of the Yu Yan turned around, staring in her direction. Rokan hoped with all her might that her green and grey clothes from the Air Temple were enough to camouflage her. The Yu Yan Archers were as still as stone until they suddenly dispersed in all directions, swiftly hopping about the rocks and brush. Rokan's heart dropped into her stomach and she was about to accept the fact that she was stuck when she noticed that the Archers were picking up dry sticks from the brush while others were setting stone in a clear circle on the ground.

_Oh. So…it's just a campfire_, Rokan thought. Feeling rather foolish, she mentally reprimanded herself for failing to notice the darkening skies. The wind that had bitten her skin for the past few days had finally died down, giving the late-winter night a mild quality. Rokan waited till the Yu Yan had finished collecting their kindling to sneak behind another boulder. Here she curled up, out of sight from the Yu Yan. She lay on her side so that she could keep her katana strapped to her back and cupped a small flame in her hands; small enough to avoid the attention of the Archers, but large enough to give off some heat. She was cramped, afraid, and hungry, but the return of her bending still brought comfort and joy. In a matter of minutes her hand dropped to the ground, snuffing out the flame, as Rokan let out a gentle sigh and left the harsh terrain for the quiet refuge of sleep.

When Rokan awoke the Yu Yan Archers were nowhere in sight. They had so well hidden the traces of their campfire that she almost thought she had dreamed of their existence. But no; they had been here before. It was invisible at first glance, but she saw the scattered ashes of a campfire on the ground. The sky was dark with gathering storm-clouds, sealing Rokan's hopeless predicament; once the rain began, she wouldn't even have their tracks to guide her. Come to think of it, she didn't even know where she was, or how far away she was from civilization.

The raindrops began to fall from the black sky, masking the tears that were trickling down Rokan's cheeks without her consent. It was childish of her to cry like this, like a toddler who didn't get her way…but she was really nothing more than a child, thwarted in her own game. The rain mingled with the salty droplets that fell from her eyelashes, and Rokan let out a roar of frustration. With a swipe of her boot, she sent a charred branch flying into the air, watching through a screen of red as it flopped unceremoniously into the mud. Wiping her face furiously, Rokan stormed through the ashes of the Yu Yan camp and began to make her way blindly forward. The only thing she could see before her was a dark forest looming a few hundred yards away. With the sun gone, she had no means of telling what directing she was heading, or if the Yu Yan had also gone this way. This mattered little to her though; now the only thing on her mind was food. Her stomach had been empty for two days now, and it growled unpleasantly.

By the time Rokan reached the trees, the rain had increased to an utter downpour. Barely pausing to check for edibility, she lopped off a branch of berries with her katana and was wolfing them down as she walked. She paid little heed to the twigs and branches that nicked her hands and face, as she was more preoccupied with the twisted roots that were ensnaring her ankles. She was deep in the forest by the time the rain let up and rays of light beamed down through the trees. She was confident that she was at least heading somewhat south, for here the trees had already burst into bloom and bushes were leafing out. In fact, the white and pink blossoms were so beautiful that Rokan ignored where she was stepping and tripped over a mossy log, falling prostrate in a puddle of mud.

"Oh, come_ on_!" she growled as her now gunky bangs stuck to her face.

With much cursing, Rokan pushed herself to her feet and set off looking for a stream to wash up in. On the way she came across some leechi nuts, which she hastily devoured. The sunlight bore a golden hue that suggested mid-afternoon when Rokan discovered, not a stream, but a sparkling river on the edge of the woods. There was a wide clearing on either side of the water, and the forest continued across the way. Sighing with relief, Rokan pulled off her muddy outer garments and waded into the cool water in her underclothes. She set to work scrubbing the mud off of her Air Temple clothes before hanging them on a tree to dry. Then, with a deep breath, she leapt back into the river and submerged, pulling the green ribbon out of her hair and shaking it loose beneath the surface. When she came up for air, she could feel that most of the mud had been washed from her thick hair.

Before she returned to the shore, a sudden thought struck Rokan. Slowly, reverently, she reached up and pulled the white bandana from her forehead. Gently, she pulled it under the water and worked away the stains with her thumbs. A warm breeze came through the trees, pushing Rokan's hair from her face, and her forehead felt strangely bare. She pulled the dripping cloth up from the water and looked at it sadly. She really ought to take better care of it…the ends were frayed and some of the stains had gone untended so long that no amount of scrubbing would remove them. It was an insult to Taiko's memory to keep the headband in such sore condition. With a painful stab in her heart, Rokan imagined what her ruined home must have looked like after all those years; if it took so little time to do so much damage to her headband, what would years of abandonment do to the memory of her home, the place of her family's graves?

Letting out a sigh, Rokan trudged through the water back to the bank, where she sat on a boulder in the sun. The warm rays were welcome on her skin. They reminded her of the hot climate of the Fire Nation. She was happy to be out of the cold climate of the north, happy to be away from the ice and snow. She wondered what the summers were like at the Air Temple, and if the snow ever truly melted on the mountain peaks. Did Teo ever experience the hot summers that Rokan herself loved?

Rokan glanced down at her right arm, the one that had been maimed by the explosion. The skin was still a raw pinkish color, and spider-web scars branched out in all directions. The burn marks stretched from the top of her hand to the edge of her collar-bone. Gingerly, she touched the tender skin on her forearm. It was only a matter of time before the new skin would began sealing over the wound, but the scar would always remain, no matter how faint, as a reminder of her foolishness. Or was it a reminder of her good luck? If the people of the Air Temple hadn't found her in time, she might not even have this arm…she might not even be alive.

Enjoying the glimmer of the sunlight off the river, Rokan dressed once more in her Air Temple clothes.

_I probably should start looking for a town sometime soon,_ she thought, poking her finger through a hole on the cuff of her pants. _Not only does my katana need repairs, but I could definitely use some food._

Squinting up at the sun, Rokan judged that she had been at the stream for about an hour and a half. Spotting a group of conveniently placed stone across the river, Rokan hopped from rock to rock and passed to the other side of the forest. Her mind delved into memories of happier days as she made her way through the trees with only the wild sparrowkeets to keep her company.

When night fell, Rokan lit a small flame in her palm for light. The darkness didn't frighten her; her empty stomach didn't permit her to stall even for threatening sounds in the darkness. She was immersed in her thoughts, not paying much attention to where she was going, when suddenly—

_SPLOOSH_.

"Augh!" Rokan shouted in disgust; she had fallen a short way off of a ledge and was now waist deep in a thick, slimy sludge.

"Come _on_, I just washed this stuff!" she said through gritted teeth.

The muck was heavy and hard to plow through, and her boots were sticking to the bottom like glue. Each time she lifted her leg was joined with a sickening squelching noise. She used her arms to force her way to a nearby log that had fallen on the forest floor…or was this even still a forest?

Pulling herself up onto the fallen tree, Rokan observed her surroundings. The towering trees still remained, but the thick oaks had been replaced with sagging willows. The soft, needle covered ground was also gone, switched with…well, it couldn't exactly be called ground at all. The thick mud was spread in all directions. Twisting vines snaked in all directions, and once or twice Rokan swore she saw one move. The air was very still except for the mosquitoes that buzzed incessantly in Rokan's eyes and ears.

"Where…what-?" Rokan muttered.

Suddenly, an ear-piercing shriek broke the air, sending a chill down Rokan's spine. She jumped and drew her katana, frantically searching the contorted trees for the source of the sound.

"Hello?" she called tentatively.

She was answered with another scream and caught a flutter of movement from the corner of her eye. A small white bird was perched on a nearby branch, and when it opened its beak the same bone-chilling cry came out.

"Ooooo….kay?" Rokan said aloud, trying to ignore the rising fear in her chest.

The sky was completely dark now, and as the ground wasn't very reliable, Rokan tried as best she could to stay on a path of fallen trees and massive roots. Once or twice her ankle got tangled in a vine, and she used a small fire blast to free herself. Each time she could visibly see the vines recoil, and once she swore that she saw the pieces mend themselves and slink away. All the while she was under the distinct impression that she was being watched.

Rokan had hoped to stay in a generally straight line and make it out of the dense marsh before sundown, but her sense of direction proved to be faulty. When night fell, she appeared to have ventured only deeper into the menacing, gnarled trees.

_Is it my sense of direction, or is the swamp changing?_ Rokan thought uncomfortably.

_Hold on…swamp! This must be the swamp that the Yu Yan Archers were supposed to attack!_

Hope surfaced in Rokan's heart. Perhaps she could find the Yu Yans' trail, or even the Archers themselves. She didn't even care if she was successful in her goal to sabotage their mission; she just wanted company in this ethereal place.

A twig snapped behind her and Rokan froze. Someone was definitely present, and they were right behind her. Rokan took a deep breath, preparing to Firebend if necessary and whipped around, only to find herself staring into the shadows between the dilapidated trees. Trying to ignore the tremor that was building in her hands, Rokan turned back with the intention of continuing on her way. However, she failed to notice the wriggling vines before her and skidded headlong into the sludgy water, choking as the muck slipped into her mouth and nose. Spluttering, she stood and wiped the mud off her clothes as best she could.

It was not long before Rokan was sure that she heard the whisper of fire behind her, and felt the warmth on her back. She paused in the middle of climbing over a large fallen log, when a quiet voice sent a rigorous wave of chills down her spine.

"Why didn't you save me, Ro?"

Sweat beading on her forehead, Rokan slowly turned her head. Her golden eyes watered as they came in contact with large brown ones…eyes she remembered clearly from all those years ago.

Taiko was standing before her, looking exactly as he had the last time she saw him; feet bare, trousers stained from work, grubby white tunic. Rokan caught her breath when she saw that his tunic was ripped across the bottom hem. With shaking fingers, she unconsciously touched the matching headband that was tied across her brow.

"Why'd you leave?" Taiko said sadly, his soft brown eyes boring into Rokan's very heart.

"I—I…" Rokan gagged on the lump in her throat and tasted the bitter salt of her tears in her mouth. She blinked hard and swayed slightly as she failed to draw breath through a sob.

The sound of flames grew louder, and Rokan's eyes widened in horror as small fires sprung up on Taiko's body, eating away his clothing and skin slowly but steadily.

"Come back, Ro! Please!"

The urgency in Taiko's voice cut Rokan's heart like a knife. She dug her fingers into her temples, but no amount of pain could wake her…so this nightmare wasn't a dream after all. Try as she might, she could not break Taiko's gaze. Her brother, still resembling a thirteen year old boy though he was two years her senior, stretched out his bruised and burned arms in desperation.

"Please, Ro! It's burning me!"

Rokan could hardly utter a scream from her closed-up throat as Taiko cried out in pain, the flames rising higher on his flesh.

"I'm burning, Rokan!" he shouted, stretching his arms out toward her as far as he could reach.

With a rushing sound, the fire covered Taiko completely before it and he disappeared into thin air, the wisps of flame being pushed apart by two barbed arrows that were suddenly flying directly at Rokan.

In the midst of her confusion and terror, Rokan had no time to react before the arrows caught her sleeve and pulled her back with astonishing speed and power, pinning her right arm against a tree. With a grunt, Rokan instinctively put her hand up to her bicep, feeling the sting of the arrow that had grazed her skin. When she pulled her palm away, she saw that a small stain of blood tainted her fingers.

_Just a scratch_, she thought. A whistling sound in her ear gave away three more arrows that had been fired at her, and she tore her arm free, not caring that her sleeves were ripped. Just in time, she ducked, allowing the incoming arrows to lodge themselves into the tree trunk directly where her throat had been. She was lucky that time. But dodging and evading had never been her strong point, and she stood no chance against the Yu Yan from this distance. Drawing her katana, Rokan rolled in the ankle-deep waters to avoid getting punctured by yet another volley. Despite her traumatic experience just seconds earlier, instinct and battle-mindset took over, pushing her fears and horror aside and briefly bringing her back to her old self.

_I either Firebend and risk burning down half this land-scape, or get turned into a pincushion_, Rokan mulled. With a sharp whistle, six more arrows embedded themselves into the ground around her, one scraping down the side of her ribs and the other, her thigh. Leaping up, Rokan drew her left arm around her shoulders and swiped outwards, unleashing a torrent of flames on the dark trees in which the Yu Yan were hiding.

_Trees grow back_, she thought with a mental shrug.

Unfortunately, the Yu Yan were obviously prepared for retaliation, and had moved out of the way of danger just in time. Rokan would need more than just strength to fight back. She needed agility and speed…Agility she usually possessed, but her skills were limited and she was not accustomed to the slippery, slimy consistency of the swamp. Speed was never her forte, however, and there was no way that she could change that now.

_Come on, Rokan,_ she thought, frustrated as she jumped out of the way of five arrows, leaving them to sink into the mud, _Play to your strengths!_

She spotted another shower of arrows, the biggest one yet, and began to run deeper into the swamp, tripping over the vines and roots. With each stumble she felt a new bruise begin, and she couldn't help but think that the marsh was working against her as well. The trees grew closer together as she pushed farther and farther into the swamp until she had to pause every now and then to squeeze herself through tight places. All the while arrows whizzed past her ears; the only thing that was saving her from being killed was her clumsiness. If anything, the close-set trees only gave the Archers an advantage.

_Just more places for them to hide while they shoot me._

Suddenly, an idea struck Rokan. An arrow struck her as well, but it bounced off of her katana sheath, killing some of its speed. Still, even at its slowed down rate it still caused her pain when it lodged itself between her shoulder-blades, though not too deeply. Gasping in discomfort, Rokan put her idea into action. Directly in front of her was a small cove, blocked on all sides by dense trees and thick roots. Making as though she was running straight forward, she prepared her breath for Firebending. At the last second, she whipped around and sent a stream of fire straight behind her, disintegrating the barrage of arrows sent her way. An Archer gave away his presence with a shout of pain, and she kept the stream of fire going as long as she could, using it as a distraction and shield. Hiding behind her own bending, she rushed towards the Archers, close enough to lash out with her katana just as her fire died down.

After that it was all a blur. Arrows flew left and right, but she managed to burn most to a crisp before they struck her. The rest of the time she was simply lucky. It began as a five on one fight, but somehow, in the midst of it all, three of the Archers left, and Rokan was left fighting against two, a man and a woman. If she wasn't too busy trying not to get killed, Rokan might have appreciated the fluidity of their fighting style, how they played off of each other so seamlessly. Rokan would have been badly outmatched had it not been for the success of her earlier Firebending that left the man's entire right side largely incapacitated. The woman was small, smaller then Rokan, and in the close quarters her speed did little to protect her from Rokan's overpowering strength. Once an opening was to be had, Rokan grabbed her wrist and with a sharp turn broke it. While the woman was distracted with the pain, Rokan cut a diagonal gash from shoulder to hip and pushed the Archer as hard as she could. The woman fell off of the large tree root on which they were standing and out of sight.

In the time it took for Rokan to overpower the woman, the other Archer had successfully stabbed an arrow into her calf from his position on the ground. Her leg buckling with the pain, Rokan let out a loud yell and blasted fire onto the Archer's arm. Falling to her knees, she swung her katana and brought it to an abrupt halt at the man's throat.

"You let me go on my way and you don't have to get hurt," she said hoarsely, her free hand clamped on her leg in an attempt to stem the blood flow.

The Yu Yan Archer gave a sputtering laugh, spitting blood out of his mouth.

"Too late for that," he coughed. Moving his hand, he revealed a deep wound in his stomach, unmistakably from Rokan's katana, "Too late for her too," he said, nodding in the direction to where the woman had fallen.

Rokan's heart sank. She made a motion as if to go and look over the edge of the tree root, but then looked distrustfully at the man.

"I'm not going anywhere," he muttered.

Rokan hesitated, but her conscience got the better of her and she turned her back on the Archer so that she could peer over at the fallen woman. Horror built in her chest when she caught sight of the broken figure in the three-inch-deep muck, her head having come in contact with a sharp rock.

Rokan scrambled back from the edge, only to cry in pain at the wound in her leg.

"I…I didn't mean to…I never meant to…" she stuttered hopelessly.

"Then why did you?" mocked the man. "I knew right away that you were Fire Nation. You can spot those bright eyes a mile away. So why have you done this?"

Rokan turned and looked at the Archer. He was a terrible sight, with half his skin burnt raw and blood running down his chin.

"You were attacking—," but Rokan paused. She didn't know _what_ they were attacking. She knew they had been sent after a monster, but why should that bother her?

"You were working for the Fire Lord. Prolonging the war. It has to stop. This world's spent one hundred years of death and destruction…that's one hundred years too long."

The Archer laughed again.

"So you've decided to stop the war by killing your countrymen, is that it? Well thought out."

Rokan's hands shook as she tried to think of a way to justify her actions.

"The Fire Lord needs to know that he's got people willing to fight against him at any cost! He needs to realize that he's not invincible!"

The Archer pulled his hand away from his stomach wound and looked at his blood-stained fingers with mild interest.

"Oh, he knows that he has opposition. Believe me, he knows. He remembers it every time he gets a report of a failed mission. He remembers with every messenger hawk he orders sent out to the families of fallen soldiers. The Fire Lord might think he's invincible, but he recognizes the mortality of his men, even if he doesn't act compassionately on it. Do you really think that by killing some more of his pawns you'll frighten him?"

Rokan felt her lip tremble though no tears surfaced. Suddenly she saw Taiko's apparition in her mind again. Taiko, her brother, burning to death because of her mistake. Was she destined to kill and never save?

"If you want to strike a blow against Ozai, you have to strike _him_. Whether you do this directly or indirectly is your choice. Assassinate him. Turn his men against him. But don't prolong the war by trying to stop it in the wrong manner."

Swallowing hard, Rokan found her voice.

"Why are you telling me this?"

The Archer chuckled for a final time.

"Because we're all of the same mind, girl. This war is hurting everyone."

Rokan let out a shaky breath as the Archer's eyes glazed over and stared blindly at the treetops. The sky was growing paler with the approach of dawn, illuminating more clearly his injuries. Rokan broke off the arrow shafts on the points in her leg and back, and slid gingerly off the tree root, beginning the painful walk towards civilization. Finally, the trees began to grow sparse, and she saw the smoke of cooking fires rising from a middle-sized town in the distance.

Her mission had failed. In her attempt to foil the Yu Yan, she had been bested by plants, driven half-mad by hallucinations, and given more than her fair share of arrow wounds. What was more, she had been sabotaged herself by the Yu Yan Archers, and in addition to her bodily wounds they had inflicted deeper injuries of confusion on her mind and heart.


	12. Home Again

Chapter 12

Home Again

The next few days were a half-conscious blur, made up of faint sounds and dull colors. Rokan was aware of the pain in her legs and back when she fell hard onto her hands and knees just a few yards away from the Earth Kingdom village. Distorted voices shouted out in concern, but she could do nothing more than fall on her side, her vision becoming consumed by blackness.

When she next came to, Rokan was staring up at a thatched ceiling. Glancing around, she saw a simple room, and realized that she was lying on a simple but soft cot. A damp cloth had been placed on her forehead, and a droplet of the warm water with which it was soaked dripped into her eye. She blinked at the sudden sting, and forgot to open her eyes again for a long while…

The third time Rokan awoke, her vision had returned to its usual sharp focus. The cloth was gone from her brow and she felt that she had the strength to move. Swinging her legs off the cot, she brought herself to a sitting position and rubbed her temples with her palms. She was dressed in an old, ragged grey tunic, and her Air Temple clothes were folded neatly on the floor, her katana propped against the wall. Heaving herself off the cot, Rokan bent over and picked up the green vest that was now faded and worn. Leaving the white long-sleeved shirt on the floor, she laced the vest on and pulled on her torn grey pants and battered boots. Lastly, she tugged on her green bracers, tied her headband about her forehead and slung her katana over her shoulder, wincing at the strain on her sore muscles.

Struck by the absence of people in her tiny sickroom, Rokan trudged through the doorway into a small main room of a hut. Crouched by a small fire pit in the center of the room was a young woman with hair that was prematurely streaked with grey. A child of about two was held on her hip while her other hand busied itself with stirring a sad concoction that was colored a watery beige inside of a simple cook-pot. Huddled in the far corner of the tiny room was an ancient old man with blank, pale eyes. His shrunken mouth moved silently and his raisin-like fingers twitched compulsively.

The young woman looked up when Rokan entered the room. Her bright green eyes contrasted greatly with the drab colors of the house and her clothes. The woman stood, bouncing the toddler upwards so to adjust the child's position on her bony hip.

"You're awake!" she said with a smile, "Please, have something to eat…it's not much, but at least it's _something_."

Rokan looked at the bubbling cook-pot but did not move or speak. A crease appeared between the woman's eyebrows.

"Are you well?" she asked with a tone of concern.

Rokan narrowed her eyes and took in the full appearance of the woman. She was young, she was a mother…she was poor, poorer than dirt. Malnourished…it looked as though the majority of her rations were given to the child in her arms, though he looked less than healthy. What could this woman possibly have to gain from helping Rokan? Surely she was intelligent enough to notice the golden gleam of Rokan's eyes, marking her as the enemy. _The enemy…_

"What is your name? Where are you from? Please, tell me, I want to help you get home."

The woman took a step forward, and Rokan countered her actions with a distrustful pace back.

"You know where I'm from. I can't understand why you'd want me under your roof," said Rokan coldly.

The woman looked surprised and a perhaps a little frightened. The little boy on her hip tugged at her stained dress and buried his curly head in her shoulder.

"I—You were wounded. Don't think I don't know what kind of injuries you had. There were arrows in your back and leg, and the only nation that uses archers extensively is the Fire Nation. You've been fighting the Yu Yan, haven't you? Why would I let that sacrifice go unrewarded?"

Rokan laughed a deep, spiteful laugh that was not her own.

"If your idea of a reward is prolonging a life of misery, then I pity other beneficiaries of your 'charity'." _Why am I acting like this? This woman did nothing wrong…_

Rokan strode towards the arched door that was practically hanging off of its hinges, fuming with anger. Was she angry with this woman, or angry with herself? Or was she just confused and hurt?

The woman shifted the child from one arm to the other and hurried after Rokan, catching her on the shoulder with a soiled hand.

"Wait! You might not be fully healed! I want to help y-,"

Rokan swung her arm around and slapped the woman's hand away.

"_Get away from me!_" she hissed hoarsely.

The child began to cry and he wrapped his thin arms around his mother's neck.

"What would you have had me do?" said the woman quietly. "Leave you in the street to die?"

"You shouldn't have interfered!" snapped Rokan. "If I die, I die, who's going to know the difference in the world if I'm not in it?"

"You're fighting with us! You're actually standing up to the tyrants of the Fire Nation! You're—you're on our side!"

Rokan slammed her fist on the doorframe, a spontaneous action which produced a small yelp from the woman and a throbbing pain in Rokan's wrist.

"I am _not_ on your side," she said in a dangerous whisper.

The woman took a step back, holding her son closer to her.

"Then…what—,"

"Don't follow me," Rokan interrupted.

Turning her back on the woman, she slammed the rickety door shut with her foot and broke out to a run. On the horizon lay the ocean, her only way home. Rokan pushed herself to run faster, though every second footfall brought a twinge of pain to her left leg. Her eyes watered from the wind, and her stomach growled from hunger, but she didn't care. She was lost…she wanted to go home.

When Rokan arrived at the harbor after a full day of travelling, she was tired and hungry. She was able to exchange her long-sleeved white shirt for a bowl of lukewarm noodles, however, so she didn't exactly starve. In her years on her own, Rokan had learned to keep expectations low for her meals.

In order that she might gain free passage to the Fire Nation, Rokan approached a tall, stiff warden of the Fire Nation prison nearby. The only ship that was departing for the Fire Nation was a prison ship that was heading for the Boiling Rock. A long line of men and women in chains wrapped around the dock as soldiers used fire whips to persuade them less than gently.

The warden did not believe that Rokan was Fire Nation till she determinedly pushed back her bangs and showed him her bright golden eyes and let a flame dance on her fingertips. She explained that she needed to get back to the Fire Nation capitol, and that she was willing to aid in keeping the Earth Kingdom prisoners in check on the voyage. The warden agreed, as there were several wounded Fire Nation soldiers who also needed to return to the Royal City.

"You can't go waltzing among the prisoners dressed like that, though," he said, gesturing at her Air Temple clothes. "The prisoners might mistake you as a friend. Go see Private Zhu about a spare uniform."

Rokan followed the point of the warden's finger and met a young woman, about eighteen, with tanned skin and long black hair woven in a braid. She had a dagger sheath at her hip and was flipping the weapon up in the air and catching it with clean reflexes and skill.

"Excuse me…Private Zhu?" Rokan inquired.

Zhu turned her head to Rokan and pushed up the visor of her helmet, revealing large brown eyes.

"Can I help you?" she said, a puzzled look on her pretty face.

Rokan explained her position as a volunteer on the vessel and asked for a uniform so that she could blend with the other soldiers. Zhu looked questioningly at the warden, but he nodded reassuringly.

"Alright…you'd better come aboard then," she said, and she led Rokan up the ramp and onto the great metal ship.

Zhu slipped into the storeroom below deck and called up for Rokan to join her. In record time she found a uniform of the appropriate size for Rokan.

"Put it on quickly, we're almost ready to disembark."

Rokan let out a little puff of breath when Zhu thrust the armor and helmet roughly into her arms. The young Private shook her head and gave Rokan a disgusted look, doubt clearly etched on her face.

"You _can_ Firebend, right?" she asked skeptically, not even bothering to turn her back as Rokan slipped her green vest off.

"Of course I can. Want me to demonstrate?"

Zhu held up her hands and shook her head vigorously, causing her thick black plait to swing back and forth.

"Oh no, that's alright. You'd probably set fire to the ship."

Rokan was halfway through lacing the backs of her new boots when she paused, taking a deep breath. _Control yourself, Rokan. As much as you want to tear this stuck up Zhu apart, you need to get home. Don't screw this up._

"What are you stopping for? Move it! We're leaving port in two minutes!" Zhu snapped, turning her attention from her fingernails to Rokan's crouched figure.

Rokan gritted her teeth and stood up quickly, slapping a sarcastic smile on her face and saluting Zhu patronizingly.

"I'm ready to go, Ma'am," she said in a falsely cheerful voice.

Zhu opened her mouth to say something, but the whistle blew from above deck and all she could do was shoot Rokan a poisonous scowl. Rokan grinned to herself and followed Zhu's haughty figure up the ladder to the main deck, where she fell into place in the line of soldiers.

The journey to the Fire Nation took three days. They were favored with fair weather and a calm sea, though the sun beat down unbearably hot in the late afternoon. The prisoners were lulled into submission by the rocking waves and humid air, and Rokan found herself wishing they would try to escape just so it would stir the mood and shake her out of her rut of boredom. But the Earth Kingdom prisoners did nothing of the sort. They were tired, frightened, and quiet, and they shrank away in fear whenever a soldier passed within five feet of them.

Needless to say, Rokan was glad to see the Fire Nation harbor on the third day. It meant that she could leave behind the terrified prisoners and arrogant Zhu, who made a point to harass and jeer at Rokan whenever they were in the same vicinity (and with their place being on a confined ship, this was all the time).

The minute the prison ship dropped anchor, Rokan pulled off her helmet and sent it clattering across the deck. She had already put her old clothes on under her armor despite the fact that it was against regulations. In a flash, she had broken the ties that held the metal plate together and let the armor drop to the floor.

"What do you think you're _doing_?" snapped Zhu.

"Getting away from b-…" Rokan paused and considered her word choice, "…bullies like you."

Zhu swore under her breath and caught Rokan's wrist as she tried to walk away.

"You can't just waltz off whenever you want, idiot! You volunteered for this job, so start acting like an adult and take some responsibility. We've got to get these prisoners off this ship!"

Rokan wrenched her arm from Zhu's iron grip.

"I've got enough responsibility on my conscience, you"—Rokan used a rather impolite term—"and I don't have to take orders from you. Eat my dust."

Spinning on her heel, Rokan stalked away, pushing other soldiers aside with her elbows. Zhu stormed after her, and as Rokan was hurrying down the ramp to the dock, the Private called:

"I knew you were worthless! Just an egotistical child who thinks she's better than she is. But you run away when you get scared! You abandon your duty to your country!"

Without a moment's hesitation, Rokan whipped around and bolted back up the ramp, and with a swing of her arm she planted a red mark on Zhu's beautifully sculpted cheekbone.

"_YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT I'VE BEEN THROUGH!" _she screamed hoarsely, jutting out her lower jaw like she always did when trying to be intimidating.

Zhu had no chance to speak. Rokan sprinted down the ramp, angry shouts from the soldiers stinging her ears. When her feet hit the dry soil, a jolt of energy seemed to course through her. She was home. All her guilt built up anew in her chest as she ran towards the looming mountain that housed the Fire Nation Capital.

Rokan ran till her breath was ragged and a stitch pinched her side. She fell heavily into the side of a stone building and sank to her knees. A lump was lodged in her throat but no tears came. The familiar sights and sounds made old terrors resurface, and her head was suddenly filled with the sight of Taiko collapsed under the beams. Her own childish voice rang in her mind, screaming. Rokan heaved dry sobs and tore at her tunic, ripping the green fabric at the hem.

"I don't know what to do…I don't know where I belong…I'm lost…" she whimpered pathetically.

_It's burning me, Rokan!_

"Stop it…no, not the swamp again…"

_You run away when you get scared!_

"Stop it."

_Take some responsibility!_

"_Stop it!_"

Rokan was on her knees, her head pressed into the ground and her hands clamped over her ears. The voices began to overlap each other. Every mistake she had ever made returned fresh to her memory, her responsibility for the death of her family being the most vivid.

"Stop it…go away…" she whispered. "It's too painful…"

_It's not too painful. _

Rokan froze as she remembered the words of a crippled healer who was wise beyond his years.

_You're ashamed of your mistake. Let go…and put your conscience at rest._

"But it's all my fault…"

_Let go._

Rokan took a deep, shuddering breath and let it out shakily. It wasn't her doing. She did the right thing by refusing to help the Fire Lord. She had spared an innocent life. The murder that took place was not her doing. The only mistake she had made was running away and refusing to face her fears. But that would change now.

Kneeling up on her heels, Rokan took another deep breath. When she released it, something seemed to click inside of her. It felt like water was allowed to flow after years of being blocked off.


	13. Ashes

Chapter 13

Ashes

When Rokan finally arrived at the harbor outside the Fire Nation's volcanic capital, a soft drizzle of rain had begun to fall. Civilians darted about, ducking under tents and into shops. Merchants evaluated the severity of the coming clouds and with whispered curses began to close up their stands. A faint rumble of thunder sounded in the distance.

Rokan could scarcely believe how little things had changed. She was able to find her way about the narrow streets with as much ease as if she had been living there for the past five years. Her insides seemed to be at war; her heart sank and her stomach leapt and flip-flopped. When she passed the metal-working shop she knew her destination lay just around the corner.

As if on cue, a flash of lightning lit up the western sky as Rokan laid her eyes on her childhood home. Or at least, its general location. Clearly no one had bothered to construct any sort of memorial or grave for the innocent people who had passed. On the contrary, the ground which had previously held Rokan's humble cottage now boasted an ornate bath house. A sign written with delicate calligraphy dubbed it "Baht's Baths". The pretty building looked out of place amidst the lower class shacks and houses. Sweet-smelling steam was filtered through finely woven screens on the octagonal windows. A handsome young man in a silk tunic stood at the door, bowing customers inside.

Rokan was so shocked by this transformation that it never crossed her mind to be angered about the desecration of her family's memory. She stood in the street, staring at the bath house in awe. The only thing that distracted her was the rickety cart that hurtled past her, splashing her with mud and dirty rainwater. Its driver didn't even stop to apologize; he merely whipped his ostrich horse and urged it to go faster still.

_Why do I have this unnatural magnetism to mud? _Rokan thought with a slight grin on her face.

"Can I interest you in a hot bath, Miss?"

Rokan jumped at the voice behind her. Looking over her shoulder, she saw a well groomed, slightly pudgy man of about twenty.

"Um, no thank you. I don't have anything to pay with," Rokan replied.

The man made a scoffing sound and dismissed her words with a wave of his hand. Rokan had to stop herself from coughing at the overwhelming scent of cologne that he carried on his long, golden silk robe.

"No, no, please, it is my pleasure. A welcoming gift to a newcomer," he said jovially, clapping his hand on Rokan's shoulder.

"But I really couldn't—" protested Rokan, attempting to edge away.

"Really, you must! You're obviously new around here, and I'm always looking for new customers! When you start meeting your neighbors, make sure you put in a good word for me, alright?" he said with a wink. Looking toward the boy who stood at the door, he called: "Lu Bo! Show our new customer inside."

"Yes, Master Baht."

The boy flashed Rokan a charming smile, and Rokan noticed how identical it was to that of the man. Before she could ask any questions, she was ushered into the elegant bath house.

"See to it that our guest has the best of everything. And make sure someone washed her clothes," said Baht with an air of disgust, flicking a clump of mud off of Rokan's shoulder.

Lu Bo bowed to Baht and beckoned for Rokan to follow him.

"My brother has only recently opened this bath house, but already we have many clients."

"Oh, so Baht's your brother? How many years are there between you two?" asked Rokan, glancing at the furry-robed people milling about.

"Two years," Lu Bo said simply.

Rokan's foot caught on the smooth stone floor and she stumbled. Lu Bo caught her by the arm and steadied her, but she shrugged off his grasp.

_Two years…how 'bout that, Taiko?_

Lost in her thoughts, Rokan barely noticed that they had reached their destination. Lu Bo bowed her inside a small steamy room where a hot bath lay prepared in a marble tub.

"When you are finished, or if you need anything at all, ring that bell on the bath's edge there. Drop your clothes down that chute on the far wall and I'll see to it they are replaced."

"Oh, I thought Baht said I would just get these cleaned. I don't have any money to buy new clothes, and I certainly don't want to leech off your brother's good will anymore," said Rokan quickly.

Lu Bo waved his hand dismissively, a characteristic movement so reminiscent of his older brother.

"Don't worry about it. It's nothing," he said kindly. "Now, you wash up," he said with a blush, nodding to the steaming tub. And with that, he ducked out, sliding the opaque screen door shut.

Rokan stared at the hot bath, almost disbelievingly. This bath house was so different from every other location she had been to. It bore an air of calmness, comfort, and relaxation. As she walked to the chute where she was supposed to dispose of her clothes, she noticed how the slightest shift of her feet on the floor seemed to echo in the absolute silence. A ringing sound came up in her ears, and she found that she almost enjoyed it.

As Rokan pulled her vest off over her head, she suddenly became aware of the severe tenseness in her neck and shoulders. When she bent down to pull off her boots, she felt every single bruise she had ever received. It struck her how tired she was, and when Rokan settled herself into the soothing warm water, she couldn't help but tip her head back and doze.

Subconsciously aware that she was not alone, Rokan jerked awake in time to see a small statured girl scurry out of the room, leaving behind a pile of fresh clothes and a bundle of fluffy towels by the bath side.

Sighing contentedly, Rokan pushed herself up and out of the tub and took refuge in the soft folds of what wasn't a towel at all, but a pale yellow robe. Absentmindedly fingering the silk ribbon trim on the hem, Rokan bent down to examine her new clothes.

After being sure she was sufficiently dry, Rokan dressed. Baht's kind staff had generously provided her with brown pants and leather boots that rose mid-calf. A sleeveless red tunic was belted with a thick gold band, and she had been given black fingerless gloves that reached to just before her elbows. Finally, Rokan had been given a sign by which to flaunt her nationality with the traditional golden armbands of the Fire Nation. Rokan dressed in these clothes and looked at her distorted reflection in the pristine marble floor. After so many months spent in her Earth Kingdom garb, it struck Rokan how very Fire Nation she appeared.

Another thing that was apparent to Rokan was the fact that her hair had grown long in the past few months. Her bangs now hung almost to her chin. Taking a golden strip of cloth, Rokan pulled all of her hair back and once again tied Taiko's white cloth about her brow. Glancing at the shiny floor again, she saw not Zoai, not the confused child in the Swamp. She looked older, calmer, and wiser. She looked…ready.

Sliding the thin papery door open, Rokan stepped into the sleek hallway quietly. Following the same route on which Lu Bo had taken her nearly an hour before, Rokan made her way to the front door. Baht was speaking to a richly dressed woman, bowing as she handed him a purse of gold coins.

"Wonderful service as usual, Baht. I look forward to coming again," the woman said with a smile.

Baht seemed so shocked by her generous compensation; all he could do was bow even lower. The woman smiled and glided out the door with calm poise. Her aura of regality made even Rokan feel a little self-conscious as she plodded towards Baht with strong, grounded steps. Baht rose from his groveling posture and started as Rokan stepped in front of him.

"I can scarcely recognize you with all that mud washed off," he jested.

His smiled faltered as he took in Rokan's new apparel.

"I—who gave you those?" he asked, gesturing to the fresh clothes.

"Your brother did. Where is he, actually? I'd like to thank him," Rokan replied, glancing around for the slender figure of Lu Bo.

Baht blinked.

"Lu Bo is waiting on a very prestigious client at the moment. I'm sorry, I'm not usually one to be so strict, but I'm just trying to promote my new business," he said politely. "I'll tell Lu Bo of your gratitude."

Rokan smiled and clasped her fist beneath her hand, bowing as was the custom of the Fire Nation.

"Thank you so much for your kindness."

Baht shook his head dismissively and bowed her out the door, closing it rather quickly behind her. Rokan thought little of it, as the rain was still falling. The wind had begun to blow as well, sending droplets of rain into her eyes.

Rokan had begun to walk away from the Bath House when a sudden curiosity spiked in her mind. She turned and squelched her way through the mud behind the Bath House. In the back of her mind, she knew there was little chance of her finding what she sought, but a spark of hope still flared inside her heart.

The rear side of the Bath House was nothing special. Vents beneath the eaves released sweet-smelling steam into the air, and a small shed stood crookedly on the mud. A small garden was in the process of being planted, and there was a small trowel left on a rough grey rock.

Crouching down in the mud, Rokan took the trowel and began to dig. She must have dug down three inches before the trowel hit a surface that wasn't mud or stone. Using her hands to wipe away the dry dirt, Rokan saw the edge of a wooden beam, rotting and blackened. Shaking, she reached down and touched it gingerly. It crumbled to ash the moment her fingers met its surface. With her other hand, Rokan pulled off a rotted chunk of the corner and stood.

_Welcome home, Rokan_, she thought bitterly.

Somewhere in the distance, a woman screamed. Rokan flinched, unsure of whether it was a scream of one being attacked or just a fright given to one with a weak constitution by a spider-rat. The silence that followed made the back of Rokan's neck prickle. Still holding the piece of wood in one hand, she slowly drew her katana. Her golden eyes scanned her surroundings and the looming crater that was the Capital. Off in the distance, smoke was rising, billowing into the grey sky in a great black cloud.

Rokan clenched her fist, reducing the chunk of beam in her hand to ash. The wind scattered it from between her fingers and she stared at the remains of her home as they were blown from her sight forever. Rain dripped into her eyes and Rokan glanced back at the cloud of smoke. Was there a child there, running away from his burning home?

Rokan brushed her hand on the leg of her pants to rid her palm of the ashes. A roll of thunder shook the ground as a forked tongue of lightning tore across the sky. Rokan trudged toward the volcanic mountain, unsure of what she was going to do. All she knew was one thing: she was tired of ashes.


	14. The Threat of a Shadow

Chapter 14

The Threat of a Shadow

The crack of skin on skin echoed off the darkened, empty marble halls of the Bath House. Lu Bo staggered backwards, shocked, a red mark blossoming on his cheek where his brother had struck him.

"_What were you thinking?_" hissed a red-faced Baht.

"What did I do?" Lu Bo cried innocently.

Baht planted another strike on his younger brother's temple, casting the youth onto the floor.

"Thanks to your unauthorized 'generosity', I've had my compensation cut in half! Do you have any idea how hard it is to keep this Bath House open? To keep food in your thankless _gut_?" Baht accentuated this last word with a hard kick to Lu Bo's stomach.

"Wh—what generosity?" the boy sputtered painfully.

"You just _handed_ that girl a disguise without my permission!"

Lu Bo's forehead creased and he coughed hoarsely, still clutching his stomach.

"Girl—I—Who are you to decide whether or not I help someone in need?"

Baht descended on his younger brother and, grabbing him by his thick dark hair, slammed his head into the wall.

"Enough of your lip, Lu Bo. Be happy I got the message to the Fire Lord in time, or else things would be much worse for you."

Bashing Lu Bo's head on the wall once more, Baht let the boy slump to the ground. He himself was breathing heavily, his round face flushed.

"That message wasn't meant to go to the Fire Lord, fool."

Baht let out a yelp and spun around, coming nose to nose with a tall figure dressed in black. Three more such figures dropped down from above like massive spider-rats. The figure directly before Baht stepped forward out of the shadows. It was a woman, with grey-streaked hair chopped to her shoulders. She was dressed in form-fitting black clothes with a dark cloth pulled over her nose and mouth. Around her head was a grey band decorated with a red Fire Nation insignia. In the darkness, her pale yellow eyes seemed to glow.

"If you had paid more attention to your orders and less to your own profit, you _might_ have received half your reward. However, I have no choice but to give you but a third of the original sum."

Her voice was cool and slow, sounding too young to be coming from her lips. Baht's eyes widened and a look of rage distorted his somewhat handsome features.

"I—how dare you, I—what do you mean it wasn't meant for the Fire Lord?" he sputtered.

The woman stared at Baht with emotionless eyes.

"You were meant to send a hawk directly to the Jianjun Assassins, you lump. The Fire Lord can't be bothered with minute details."

"I thought—after all, the Fire Lord is the one who ordered this pursuit in the first place. Should he not be informed of his enemy's progress?" Baht countered defiantly.

The woman laughed lightly.

"His _enemy_? The Fire Lord feels no threat from this girl. He just wants to finish the job that should have been completed years ago."

There was a sickening silence that followed these words. The woman's companions stood as still as statues. There was a soft groan as Lu Bo stirred. A vein pulsed in Baht's forehead, and he spun around, ready to strike his brother again. Quick as lightning, one of the slender, black figures stepped in front of him, holding out his fist. Between each knuckle was a small, sharp kunai knife. Two others stepped forward. The smaller one, a woman, helped lift Lu Bo's limp body and the man held Lu Bo across well-muscled shoulders.

"What are you doing?" Baht growled, nearly going cross-eyed looking at the kunai knives that were still thrust in his face.

"You've clearly placed wealth above the safety of your brother. He will be under our care now. Goodbye, Baht. Here is your payment."

The leader of the assassins dropped a small leather pouch filled with gold coins on the floor. She raised a gloved hand and snapped her fingers, and, as quickly and silently as a fox-cat, the entire company of black-clothed figures was gone, seemingly melted into the shadows. Lu Bo was nowhere to be seen. The second wave of storms rolled in and electricity lit up the sky, illuminating Baht as he bent down to retrieve his gold hungrily.

"Enough."

The Fire Lord's cold voice echoed through his throne room. A crumpled, shaking figure was illuminated in the flickering light of the throne of fire. Twin sais were cast forgotten on the cold tile floor as their owner writhed as if he was in pain.

"Stop this!"

The Fire Lord rose, towering over the prostrate figure. His velvet robes swished as he threw out his arm, pointing an accusing finger at his subject.

"Cease this pathetic display of weakness!"

"_Where are they?_"

The figure, who was a young man, snapped his head up to look at the Fire Lord. His voice was hoarse and wracked with fury and pain, tears flooding uncontrollably from pale golden eyes.

"They're dead. Where else could they be? The doors were blocked from the outside and the whole structure burned to the ground in minutes."

The man screamed like a wounded animal, tearing at his face and arms with black-gloved hands.

"Why? _Who did this?_"

The Fire Lord eased himself back onto his throne calmly, allowing his face to be cast in shadow once more. The flames before him shrunk slightly.

"Why are you so quick to diagnose it as a murder?" he inquired, "It could have just as easily been an acci—…"

"This was no accident!" the man interrupted, shaking his dark head vigorously. "None of them are Fire Benders, you said yourself the doors were blocked, how is that an accident?"

The Fire Lord nodded in agreement.

"Yes, true…so it is apparent that you have an enemy…one heartless enough to burn your wife and children to death without a second thought."

The man wailed and sobbed thickly into his hands once more, his anguish muffled by the black cloth pulled over his nose and mouth. The Fire Lord smoothed his heavy robes and waited for the pitiful cries to cease. Once they did, a cold smile spread on the sovereign's face.

"What are you going to do, then?" he asked in a dangerously soft voice.

"I'll…I'll find it…I'll find whatever monster did this to my—my beloved-," the man put a clenched fist to his mouth and took a deep breath.

Before he could continue, the Fire Lord raised a hand to stop the man.

"What if I told you that I know who is responsible?"

The man in black froze and looked up at his Fire Lord with wide eyes.

"You—you know—who?" he stammered.

"Yes, I know."

The Fire Lord paused, enjoying the pained look on the man's face. Seconds that seemed to take hours passed before the man slammed his fists on the ground.

"_Tell me!_" he screamed.

The Fire Lord stood and descended from his throne. He walked toward the shaking man and bent down till their eyes were level.

"No matter what I say to you, you must promise me that you will not underestimate the threat at hand. Is that understood?"

"Yes, my lord."

The corners of the Fire Lord's mouth twitched ever so slightly.

"The one you seek is a girl. A girl with a white headband."

The man looked at the Fire Lord incredulously.

"I—I know no girl with a headband. Who is she? Why would she-?"

The Fire Lord stood, casting his tall, lean shadow over the man once more.

"She is a child who lost her own family and with them her mind. She has been away from here for many years. The stress of the return was too much for her fragile wits. She saw your family and was reminded of her own, and out of spite she destroyed them. She sees not how anyone could be happy when she herself has lost so much and felt such pain. She wishes to spread her pain. To make all others _feel_ the loss that came about due to her own pitiful weakness. I will not bore you with the details of her wretched past; I will only tell you that despite her woeful state, she is a formidable enemy. Take caution. But have no mercy."

The man took a breath and picked up his twin sais. He stood and bowed to the Fire Lord, and a droplet of sweat rolled off of his brow and onto the shining stone floor.

"Thank you, my lord. Thank you."

He turned and began to exit the throne room. Fire Lord Ozai hesitated before returning to his flame wreathed throne.

"Zhensu!" he called.

The man glanced back.

"My lord?"

"You know what I mean by no mercy, don't you Zhensu?" said the Fire Lord coldly. "Finish the job that I should have done years ago. Obliterate her."

Zhensu bowed low once more, clasping his fist over his heart. The firelight glinted off of the dark red Fire Nation insignia on the dark band about his head.

"My lord…what is this girl called?"

Ozai's golden eyes narrowed, and he spat out the name with contempt.

"Rokan."


	15. A Taste of Death

Chapter 15

A Taste of Death

Rokan was quite tired of fighting, but that didn't spoil the fun of being plowed through a manure cart. A split second after she hit the dirt, she planted her palms on the ground behind her head and sprang up with precision. Once her feet locked her balance, her athletic attacker got a black-gloved fist in his cheek. Now it was _his_ turn to fall in the putrid feces. The onlookers from the tavern cheered.

"When will you just accept the fact that I always win?" Rokan smirked as the youth struggled to rise to his feet.

The boy didn't respond. He grunted in frustration as he lost his footing in the slick manure, sitting down hard on his rear. The small crowd laughed and jeered.

Rokan shrugged and pulled a clump of sludge out of her ponytail.

"If you want a rematch, you know where to find me, she said, her boots squelching as they were freed from the muck. The spectators who had gathered to watch the tussle parted to allow Rokan to pass.

Rokan's current "home" was a crooked sheet of metal propped on crates behind a storehouse. Though she had no income with which to reimburse them, the owners of the storehouse were a kindly couple who gave Rokan at least one good meal every day. Rokan sensed that it was because of their childless home that they allowed her to remain.

Today the storehouse keepers had left a bowl of noodles on a crate near Rokan's shelter. It was still warm, and a note was tucked between the chopsticks: _Red meat tonight!_ Rokan grinned happily and settled down with her noodles. The cloudy sky broke and raindrops began to trickle down like tears, continuing what Rokan affectionately dubbed "The Week of Wet".

It wasn't long before a familiar figure appeared in the mist. Rokan sighed heavily and set down her bowl of noodles.

"When I offered the rematch, I was using an intelligent little language called _sarcasm_, bud. Are you honestly looking for another fight?"

The youth Rokan had fought earlier twisted his fingers into determined fists. He was still covered in manure and the rain plastered his black hair to his tanned forehead, but his dark yellow eyes glittered with a myriad of emotions that Rokan found hard to interpret.

"I don't want to fight you," he said firmly.

Rokan laughed scathingly. "Oh, really? You totally made that clear when you came out of nowhere and slammed my face into a table for no reason."

The boy tightened his hands even more.

"I d-didn't mean to!" he said through chattering teeth.

Sympathy got the better of Rokan and she sighed.

"You've piqued my curiosity." A flame flickered to life on Rokan's palm. "So come dry off while you enlighten me."

The boy hesitated, but he did join Rokan under her shelter, welcoming the heat of her Firebending. He was silent for several minutes, his deep golden eyes staring blankly into the rain.

"So!" Rokan began impatiently, "You clearly want me to start this conversation. Thanks! Thought you'd never ask. And hey, look, I was right. Anyhow, contrary to what you might think, I am in fact NOT an anonymous vagabond with no purpose other than brawling. Rokan's the name, survival's the game, how about yourself?"

The boy took a deep breath and turned to face Rokan.

"My name is Izu. And there's no 'game' for me because it's common knowledge that I'm too pathetic to be given any responsibility."

Rokan raised an eyebrow and coaxed her flame to rise.

"Elaboration please? Why did you fight me?"

Izu picked at the cuff of his tunic.

"The soldiers came yesterday. They make a yearly sweep of the towns looking for new recruits. My father went to war years ago. My older sister left for the homeland border guard last summer. Now they came again and for the second year in a row they said I 'wasn't up to the military's standards'."

Rokan looked Izu up and down. He was rather skinny, but his arms and shoulders appeared to be strong, though not bulky. He was tall and swift; Rokan had seen his superior agility earlier.

"Why didn't they want you? I've _fought_ you, and you're fast and pretty good."

"I'm not a Firebender and I haven't had any experience with weapons," Izu responded glumly.

Confusion and frustration rose in Rokan's mind.

"But you don't _need_ weapon experience! That's why you go to _training_!"

"I know!" said Izu, throwing his hands up into the air.

"But what strikes me as odd," Rokan continued, "is why you want to go to war so desperately in the first place. Your mother already said goodbye to her husband and her daughter…why force her to let go of you too?"

"I don't want to go for glory. I want to fight for my country and my family."

"So that's why you fought me? You wanted to prove that you're strong enough to go to war?"

Izu nodded. The fire Rokan held had nearly dried his dark hair.

"It's not for glory," Izu repeated. He dropped his voice slightly. "I—I have a little sister."

Izu swallowed hard and drew his knees into his chest. Rokan urged her flame to grow, as she felt as if the temperature had dropped suddenly.

"She's sick. She was born sick. Her heart, it's…it's weak. She doesn't go out of the house much; not unless I take her. I was ten when she was born and we've always been close."

Rokan let her eyes rest unfocused on her fire as she considered what to say.

"But if she means so much to you, why would you leave her?"

Izu stood abruptly and hit his head on the metal covering of the shelter. He growled in vexation and stepped out into the rain.

"I'm not weak! I have to be strong for _her_! She should be proud of me, she should look up to me! Younger siblings _should_ admire their big brothers! Maybe you'd understand if you had one."

Rokan felt as if she'd been kicked in the chest as she watched Izu clap his palms to his temples. She couldn't tell if the rain was streaming down his cheeks or if his emotions had gotten the better of him. An aching feeling pounded at her heart and she rose almost subconsciously. Izu didn't so much as flinch as Rokan slipped her arms around his waist and rested her head on his shoulder.

"I do understand. But my brother was taken away from _me_ and I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy, much less your little sister," she said quietly, closing her eyes against the rain. It was several seconds before Izu draped his thin arms over her shoulders. Rokan felt him rest his pointed chin on the top of her head.

"I didn't expect this to come out of picking a fight with you, Rokan," he said softly. His breath was warm in the cool rain.

Rokan couldn't think of what to say. As Izu relaxed, she tensed. This didn't feel right. The back of her neck prickled as Izu slid his hand down to the small of her back.

"I talked to you for five minutes," Izu whispered, "And you managed to make me see sense as well as make me like you."

Leaning back, Izu put a hand under Rokan's chin and tilted her head upwards. This wasn't right…Rokan had only wanted to comfort him. What if he—

Rokan gasped sharply but quickly relaxed as Izu's lips met hers. Her hands involuntarily ruffled Izu's hair and he pulled her closer. The rain slid down their faces, but that didn't matter. They barely noticed. There was no one in the world but them.

Izu turned abruptly, pulling Rokan along with him. Rokan barely knew what was happening. She was in such a daze.

They might have stayed like that for minutes, hours, when Izu tensed and caught a sharp breath. A strange bitter taste filled Rokan's mouth and she pulled away in terror. She recognized that taste all too well. Izu collapsed in her arms, his golden eyes now dull, blood trickling from his mouth. Rokan choked as she lowered him to the ground, a single sai dagger protruding from his back.

"No!" she screamed hoarsely. She gagged and spat out a quantity of Izu's blood. The thick red liquid dripped from the corners of her mouth and down her chin. She would have died right then and there if her instincts hadn't kicked in and caused her to drop to the ground. A black gloved hand slammed an identical sai into the crate where Rokan's head had been seconds before.

Rokan's attacker was a swift man dressed in black with a cloth concealing most of his face. He brutally yanked his dagger out of Izu's back and jerked his knee upwards, catching Rokan under her chin and snapping her head back.

"_Why did you do it? What were they to you?_"

A chill went down Rokan's spine at the sound of her attacker's voice. She could almost hear the layers of grief and rage resonating with every syllable. With a thrust of her left fist, Rokan sent a stream of fire at the man, forcing him to back away. This bought her enough time to retrieve her katana from her shelter, though in doing so she was forced to step over Izu's lifeless body.

_Why _did_ I do it? _She thought painfully, _I barely knew him…why did I care what he did with his life? If I hadn't—if only I—_

"THEY WERE ONLY _CHILDREN_!" the man screamed.

With extreme agility, he somersaulted in the air and swiped at Rokan with his sais. Rokan dodged him and sliced her hand horizontally through the air, sending out a sheet of orange flames. The assassin leapt backwards and flung his left sai spinning through the air aimed for Rokan's throat. With a sharp upwards movement, Rokan deflected the sai with her katana blade and jumped over the wooden crates behind her. The toe of her boot caught on the tip of one, causing her to crash to the ground amidst the wreckage of the broken boxes. Ignoring the splinters in her hands and arms, she scrambled to her feet and took off running, every so often sending blasts of fire behind her. Civilians screamed and scrambled to the sides of the street as she hurtled by, the assassin in hot pursuit. Rokan was like a wrecking ball the way she crashed through stands and knocked over unwary passerby's, but her attacker was incredibly swift and silent. He had been trained to run. _She_ had been trained to stand her ground and fight. One of them would have to bow to the other's style, and Rokan had a feeling that would be up to her.

_I can't run for much longer…I'm not meant for running! _Rokan thought frantically as her breathing became labored and her strides slower.

"You can't run forever, murderer!" echoed the assassin's voice.

"I KNOW!" Rokan retorted. Even in her terror and confusion, part of her was still keen to be sarcastic.

Something metal glinted in the corner of her vision. Before she could react, a small throwing star grazed her temple. Taiko's headband protected her from harm, however, and she felt a small strip of the cloth tear.

_Thanks for looking out for me, big brother,_ thought Rokan, smiling slightly to herself.

_Crash! _Another merchant's stall was knocked over by Rokan. Barely slowing down, she grabbed the handles on a small, man-pulled cart and heaved, swinging it around and letting go. The cart tumbled over itself, pulling up dust and sending splintered wood flying, but the assassin seemed to defy gravity, stepping on the airborne shrapnel and using it to propel himself toward Rokan even faster.

Rokan didn't have much time to admire his skills. She snapped her attention back on the road in front of her and stumbled. A small child was standing in the middle of the street, idly sucking his thumb and looking at the unfolding scene with mild interest.

"Run, kiddo!" Rokan shouted, putting her hand on his head as she sprinted past him.

"Kozu, quickly!" came a voice from the sidelines. The child turned his head and smiled.

"Okay, Daddy!"

Rokan's legs were aching, but she forced herself to continue. After several minutes, she turned her head to see how close the assassin was, but to her surprise he was no longer there. She had no idea that one word out of the mouth of a child had brought her invincible attacker to his knees.

_I'd better not take any chances thought, _she thought to herself, and she sidled into a small dark alleyway. At least now she could catch her breath.

"Where are you, girl?"

Rokan froze and held her breath in horror. How had he caught up so quickly? Her lungs felt as if they were being pierced with knives, but she didn't dare make a sound. The assassin's footsteps clacked on the street that had transitioned from dust to cobblestone.

"Don't think that you can escape me. Wherever you are, I'm going to find you and I swear…I swear to Agni that I will rip you apart for what you did to them."

Rokan shuddered as the assassin departed, and she felt something wet drip down her neck. Touching her skin, she realized that she still had the stains of Izu's blood streaked on her face. Her heart turned to ice and she staggered, vomiting what little food was in her stomach.

_Oh spirits…oh, what have I done? Why does everyone die because of me?_


	16. Broken Stones

Chapter 16

Broken Stones

"Get out while you still can!"

"I can help you!"

"We'll handle this! Here," the kind soldier lifted a crying child and handed her to Rokan. "Please, take her to the safe-house."

"But I—!"

"Run!" commanded the soldier, lowering his spear to face the oncoming attackers.

Rokan fumbled with the toddler in her arms; she wasn't used to children. The little girl was sobbing into her tiny hands and her thick black hair was covered in dust as her lower class neighborhood crumbled to ashes. Rokan pulled the child's legs around her hips and adjusted her arm so that she could carry her with one arm. With the other hand, she drew her katana. With frustration, she noticed that her hand was shaking.

_Pull yourself together, Rokan, it's just for a few minutes. _However, the absence of her greatest power was disconcerting and Rokan could not fully overcome her fear. It was as if the past eight months hadn't even happened. She was back to where she started; a hopeless, unlucky child with no Firebending.

The outlying town that stood in the shadow of the volcanic capital was bathed in a strange purple light. Enemy soldiers were pouring in from strange underwater machines, and great metal-shelled worms were destroying everything in their path. Rokan had to hand it to the enemy; today was a perfect opportunity for an assault. When she was a child, Rokan had heard of the Darkest Day, and her father told her that it would return again in her lifetime. And so it had: The Day of Black Sun.

"Where are you parents, cutie?" Rokan asked the child, shouting over the commotion as she ran through a side street.

The little girl couldn't ebb the flow of her tears, but Rokan thought she heard the child choke out "safe-house". She hoped that was true. The last thing she needed was to destroy someone else's life.

One more turn and the safe-house was in view. Small and unassuming, the metal-plated structure sat over many underground levels. It was to be used by the civilians in case of emergency. Rokan ran up to the bolted door at full speed and rammed it with her shoulder.

"Open up! I have a kid with me! Let us in, she needs to find her family!"

An unseen figure released the bolt and cracked the door open just enough for Rokan to slip in with the little girl on her arm. An intimidating middle-aged woman eyed Rokan's sword warily, her brown eyes darting from its blade to the crying girl.

"I'm sorry," Rokan said, sheathing the katana. "Where can I find this girl's parents? Are they here?"

The woman relaxed as the weapon was put out of her sight, and she rolled up the stained sleeved on her muscular arms. By the glint in her stern yellow eyes and the callouses on her palms, Rokan had an inkling that the woman was a former soldier, perhaps from the border guard. The woman looked at the child and her eyes sparkled.

"Yes! I recognize this girl from the town, though I don't know her family by name. Her mother and father arrived almost a half an hour ago!"

Stepping forward, the woman reached out her thick arms to the little girl.

"Come on, sweetie, let's find your family."

The toddler shook her dark head frantically and, to Rokan's utter surprise, threw her little arms around Rokan's neck. Rokan felt the tears rub off of the girl's smooth cheeks onto her own bare shoulder.

"Um, I guess, if you could show me the way-?" Rokan prompted, unable to suppress a smile.

The woman folded her powerful arms and raised a dark eyebrow. There was an echo of an explosion outside and the hair on the back of Rokan's neck prickled.

"I'm not letting you near my families with that thing on your back," said the woman with an icy-eyed nod at Rokan's katana. "They'll come to her. Wait here."

An explosion went off far closer to the safe-house than was comfortable. The walls shook and dust fell from the beams on the ceiling. The little girl in Rokan's arms screamed and clutched at Rokan's tunic. Rokan crouched down instinctively, clamping her hand on the back of the child's head. The woman in charge of the safe-house held onto the wall, bracing her feet on the uneven floor.

"We can't stay up here, lady! Here—…"

Rokan wrenched the child's fingers from her shirt and thrust her into the woman's arms. Anger and guilt was boiling up inside her and she narrowed her eyes defensively.

"If you don't trust me, fine," Rokan snapped. "But don't you dare put this little girl in danger because of your stubbornness!"

The woman opened her mouth in a mortified shock, but Rokan was already gone, slamming the thick door of the safe-house behind her. The woman was right not to trust her. She was better off fighting than protecting families. It was in her nature to attack rather than defend.

The enemy fighters had taken out the towers and stormed into the upper city. The Eclipse was at its peak and by the looks of it; it would be a few more minutes until her Firebending was returned. From was she could see of the battle, Rokan second guessed her decision to join in the fray. Perhaps for once, she might just find a safe place and wait the danger out.

But of course, with her luck, Rokan had barely made it down a side street when a black-clothed figure dropped down from a rooftop directly into her path. It was the slim assassin from the battle behind the storehouse…this was the man who killed Izu. Her heart pounding, Rokan drew her katana and bent her back leg, lunging into a defensive position.

"What do you want with me?" she growled.

The assassin reached onto his back and drew his twin sais, spinning them into place in his gloved hands. The hooked spikes on his vambraces glinted in the strange sunless light.

"What do I _want_ with you?" he echoed, his voice muffled by the dark cloth concealing his nose and mouth. "I want revenge. I want to see you DEAD FOR WHAT YOU DID TO THEM!"

Leaping forward, the assassin aimed to slit Rokan's throat, but she dug the hilt of her katana into his stomach. Slightly winded but by no means slowed down, the assassin crossed both of his sais and drove them forward towards Rokan's collarbone. The blade of Rokan's katana clanged on the ground as she did a back hand-spring to dodge, simultaneously hooking her toe under the assassin's chin to snap his head backwards. When she planted her feet back on the ground, Rokan saw the assassin rubbing his hand on the back of his neck, one sai gripped in his other fist. The weapon's twin had skidded towards Rokan, and she aimed a kick at it, hoping to send it out of reach of its owner. Unfortunately, she was too slow, and the assassin grabbed hold of her foot as she kicked and pushed her down onto the ground. The side of his palm cracked on the back of Rokan's neck and she cried out in pain. During the seconds of her incapacitation, the assassin had pinned Rokan down on the ground with a knee on her chest and a sai at her throat.

For a moment, it was as if time were frozen. The assassin's eyes were like ice that reflected a pale sun. They stared down at Rokan with a spark of madness as tears welled at their corners but refused to fall. With his free hand, the assassin took hold of the black cloth which covered his face.

"I want you to see my face," he hissed, bending forward till his face was inches away from Rokan's. "I want you to remember me when you burn in the afterlife."

Rokan struggled for breath as the assassin dug his knee into her sternum. The sounds of the distant battle seemed like pin drops in comparison to the blood rushing in her ears.

"A—a face won't do me much g-good," Rokan gasped, "Without…a-a name."

The assassin's eyes widened with deranged rage, and he tore the cloth off of his face. He might have been handsome were it not for the terrible anger and grief that distorted his pale, chiseled features. Behind his dark head, the sun began to peek out from behind its veil. Rokan grunted as the assassin wrenched her head up by her ponytail.

"_I am Zhensu!_" he screamed into her face. "_Zhensu! Let my name in your mind drown out the sounds of your screams in hell!"_

Zhensu raised his sai and prepared to drive it through Rokan's neck. Rokan screwed her eyes shut desperately. Which would come faster: death or the sun? Cold fear settled in on Rokan's stomach, but it was snuffed out by something much warmer…

Snapping her eyes open, Rokan took in as deep a breath as she could muster and breathed out a stream of flames. Zhensu roared in anger and bent backwards to avoid the fire, giving Rokan an opening to shove the assassin's knee off of her chest and roll to a standing position, picking up her katana as she did so. Holding her katana in a confident offensive position above her head, Rokan stretched out her left hand and willed fire to grow on her palm. The flames danced exuberantly, illuminating Zhensu's pale face in a demonic orange light.

"I don't know what I did to turn you against me," Rokan began, attempting to keep her voice steady, "But this is no time to be fighting your countrymen!"

Zhensu spun his sais around his fingers and gripped them tightly, crossing them over his chest in a defensive stance. His eyes glittered with rage as tears escaped at their corners.

"You don't even know?" he spat in a hoarse whisper.

Sympathy tugged at Rokan's heart and she loosened her grip on her katana, allowing the flames in her left palm to shrink.

"I seriously don't. I've never even known you…I only just returned to the Fire Nation a few weeks ago," she said hopefully, witnessing the flicker of doubt in Zhensu's eyes.

"I—…I-I…"

Zhensu grimaced and wiped his brow with the back of his wrist. His pale golden eyes darted about as though he was searching for his own motivation. The battle grew closer, and over Zhensu's shoulder appeared a strange metal tank that moved like an otherworldly worm. The shouts of men and women alike could scarcely be heard over the commotion.

"Go protect them!" Rokan prompted, taking several steps back. "That's what I'm going to do. Please, there are women and children out there who are depending on us!"

Immediately after speaking, Rokan realized that she had said the wrong thing. All signs of confusion and potential surrender disappeared as Zhensu's face contorted with rage once more.

"No. Not anymore. You made sure of that."

The metal worm plowed closer, obliterating the side of a small wooden shack. Rokan's attention remained on Zhensu, however, and she backed up quickly, her eyes wide with fear. In a split second, she registered her surroundings; to her right was an open courtyard, but to her left was a tall wooden pole that flew a Fire Nation flag. Behind her was a wide street that had not yet been overcome with the enemy. The flagpole was old and rotten at its base; Rokan couldn't believe her luck.

With a swing of her katana, Rokan sliced through the soft base of the flagpole. As it fell in front of her, she sent a searing blaze of flames across it from end to end, creating a fiery barrier between herself and Zhensu. In the moment of his limited ability, Zhensu hesitated, giving Rokan enough time to begin running down the street. Though smoke burned his eyes, Zhensu still hurled one of his sais after Rokan, and it whipped across her right cheek. She wasted no time looking back, however, and she could only hope that Zhensu would be overtaken by the enemy tank.

As she ran, Rokan was forced to come to the unhappy conclusion that it was no longer safe for her to continue living in the Fire Nation capital. When she reached the western border of the city, Rokan sidled into a small market shop, pressing her fingers to her cheek to ease the stinging of the cut. There was no one behind the counter; no doubt they were hiding from the battle like everyone else. Rokan hesitated at stealing the bright-hued fruits in the stands. She had no money in her pockets or anything of value besides her katana. Her heart weighing heavily with guilt, Rokan slipped some provisions in her pockets and searched for something with which to write a note. The inkwell behind the shopkeeper's counter was dry, and she couldn't justify carving a message into the wall with a knife. Slightly amused at the melodrama of it all, Rokan pulled her bloodstained fingers off of her cheek and traced "IOU" on the countertop. With the hint of a smile despite the terror of the day, Rokan jogged out of the shop and through the western gate of the Fire Nation capital. It looked as if she was being driven from her homeland yet again.

_Six legs. What kind of animal has six legs?_

Rokan stood with a groan, massaging her lower back with her palm. Her knees ached from crouching, examining the strange tracks that had suddenly appeared on the dry ground. Sweat dripped into her eyes as she turned her gaze to the horizon, into which the tracks appeared to lead indefinitely. In addition to the odd, three-toed footprints, she made out at least four pairs of human footprints, as well as two narrow, shallow grooves that ran parallel to each other without breaking. Perhaps it was the trail of a cart, or a wagon…whatever it was, it was definitely wheeled.

With an inconspicuous growl, Rokan's stomach twisted painfully. Clutching her abdomen in discomfort, she squinted again at the trail. Her last pomegranate bumped her leg from its place in her pocket; she couldn't go on much longer without food. There was a fifty-fifty chance of the people at the end of the trail being friendly to her.

_Well…maybe more like sixty-forty, _she thought, _with the odds against me. _

Still, what choice did she have? At this point, Rokan had little idea what she would do about Zhensu. She just needed to focus on finding a safe place for the night. And maybe, if she was lucky, she'd actually discover a few friends for once.

After four hours of trudging through the stifling heat, Rokan came to a sheer cliff face that looked out over a massive gorge that was filled with mist. The trail she had been following ended as suddenly as it had begun, and there was no sign of footprints heading back or along the cliff-side.

"They can't have all just walked off the cliff," she said aloud, shading her eyes with her hand. "Seriously, where—…"

Rokan blinked. Had she just seen…? Cupping both of her hands around her eyes, she squinted through the mist into the gorge. Yes, she was right. There _were_ buildings under the cliff-side! Great floating temples hung upside down under the rocks, and even from her great distance Rokan could make out the swirling designs carved into their walls. Rokan stood still for several moments, her mouth agape as she took in the breathtaking view. Then, wondering whether the incredible structures hung also from beneath the cliff on which she herself was standing, Rokan began to walk the length of the gorge, looking for a way down. Easily a half a mile away from her original location, she discovered a boulder on which was attached a thick rope. It descended far below into the mist, ending in either the temple or a sudden fall to the death. Excitement and apprehension combined pounded in Rokan's chest as she proceeded to pull the end of the rope up to herself. When she had gathered the entire length in her arms, she wound it around her waist and grasped it firmly with her hands, wrapping the cord about her wrists. Praying that her fingerless gloves would protect her arms and hands from rope burn, Rokan stepped gingerly off the cliff and began to slide down the rope and into the misty ravine.

For many feet it was just a craggy rock-face, but after a time the surface was worn down into a smooth wall. Then Rokan saw the alcoves carved into the wall, and inside them stood ancient statues of men and women alike. The figures were depicted in long, voluminous robes, wooden necklaces, and with arrows on their foreheads and hands. The arrows were inlaid with a different type of rock that bore a bluish hue, and a chill of awe went down Rokan's spine.

"This is the Western Air Temple!" she said to herself in a hushed voice. "I had no idea it was so nearby to the capital!"

Tightening her grip on the rope, Rokan lowered herself down more slowly, taking time to appreciate the immense size and detail of the architecture. The sharp, angular palaces of the Fire Nation could not compare to the timeless beauty of the temple that had stood for countless centuries. As she slipped down the rope, Rokan passed by the carven face of an ageless Airbender nun. Moss had ground out of the cracks in the wall and it now covered her serene face like a disease. Reaching out her hand, Rokan allowed her fingers to scrape down the stone face, clawing the moss free from the statue's features. Was it her imagination, or did the blue stone of the arrow on the nun's forehead seem to gleam a little brighter?

With a jolt, Rokan's feet hit the ground unexpectedly. Her knees buckled in surprise and she sat down on her rear, accidentally crushing the fingers of her left hand beneath her.

"Ow-w!" she whined in comical frustration, wiggling her throbbing fingers free.

With a grunt, Rokan rose to her feet and unraveled the rope from around her waist. Her gloves had protected her palms and arms well enough, but her fingers were red from the constant sliding motion of the rope. Blowing on them to ease the stinging, Rokan wandered up a staircase that led to a bridge on the left of the statue. No signs of life greeted her as she wandered across the smooth stone arch save a few tiny hummingjays that fluttered around the blooming flowers of the vines which draped the entire temple.

Upon reaching the other side of the bridge, Rokan came to a tall building scattered with balconies upon every floor. The inside was dark, however, and she willed a cup-sized flame to crackle in her palm as she ventured inside.

Rokan's first footfall brought about a cloud of dust from the mosaic floor and she fought back a sneeze. That would be a fine way to get caught, sneezing. Raising her arm up, she looked at the walls of the building. They were vibrantly painted with simplistic figures donning robes that stood upon clouds. Though they would have been created many centuries ago, the paint had hardly chipped away here, though it had indeed lost some of its color to the sunlight that undoubtedly touched them in the early morning.

Rokan passed many doors on the walls that lined the hallway, but she was most interested in the one that lay straight ahead. She planned on simply walking forward until she came upon the owners of the strange tracks. When she came up to the hallway door, Rokan saw that its wooden latch had rotted with age, and it crumbled to the floor as she touched it, allowing the door to swing wide open. The afternoon sunlight that streamed through blinded Rokan momentarily, and she blinked as her eyes watered.

"Hey Haru, what was that?"

In an instant, Rokan's heart jumped to her throat and she crouched behind the doorframe, peering out into the sun through squinting eyes. Three figures were milling about just outside the building; a tall young man of about seventeen, a tiny little boy in a helmet, and a boy with dark hair who appeared to be sitting down. All three wore the green hues of the Earth Kingdom. The little boy who had spoken before was staring at Rokan's doorway suspiciously from beneath the helmet that fell over his eyes.

"Was it just me or did that door just open?" said the young man, taking a step towards Rokan's hiding place. The seated boy spun around in his chair and glanced sharply at the doorway, and immediately Rokan's heart leapt. Despite the long months that had passed since, she could never forget the clear, gentle grey gaze of her crippled healer.

"It's probably nothing," Teo said nonchalantly, though his grey eyes were still trained on the doorway, "Just the wind. This _is_ an Air Temple after all."

"But there _wasn_'_t_ any wind just then!" whimpered the little boy.

"Maybe it's the ghost of an old Airbender who still wanders these temples seeking out little boys to train in the ways of the nomads!" whispered the older boy, who must be Haru, in a false spooky voice.

"W-what?"

Haru bent down and rubbed his forefinger in the dirt that coated the stones. He traced and arrow on his brow and snuck up on the little boy, who was looking anxiously over his shoulder.

"Better run, The Duke!" he shouted, poking the boy's ribs, "Or he'll get you!"

With a shrill shriek that turned into a delighted laugh, The Duke took off running away from the building with Haru on his heels. Teo chuckled.

"Hey, wait for me!" he shouted over his shoulder, but he never took his eyes from the hallway door.

Despite her happiness at seeing her friend again, Rokan felt a sudden apprehension that caused her to scoot back into the shadows. What if Teo didn't recognize her? She had changed so much since they last met…she had grown weaker. Rokan was suddenly aware of how brave she had felt when she left the Northern Air Temple, ready to sabotage the Fire Lord's plans for world domination. Now she was as confused as ever, bringing death everywhere she went and being chased by an insane assassin. She didn't feel brave now. She felt afraid. So afraid that even the sight of Teo—gentle, kind, Teo—was enough to send her scurrying away into the darkness.

Unfortunately, as she shifted her position, Rokan sent large quantities of dust into the air, and they all seemed to collect in her nose and mouth. Suddenly, she coughed and immediately afterwards she began to sneeze uncontrollably. She would have cursed if she had the breath to spare. In the midst of her watery-eyed confusion, Teo had made his way up the worn down stairs and was wheeling himself inside the building cautiously. Rokan's fire had been extinguished when she began sneezing, so the only light was the dusty beam of sunlight that streamed in through the open door.

"Doing some Spring cleaning?"

Rokan did her best to open her red-rimmed eyes and look at Teo as she continued to sneeze into her elbow. Teo wheeled in the rest of the way and turned himself around so that he faced the open door, the sunlight falling across his kind face.

"Technically, I suppose its Summer cleaning. If it was Spring cleaning it would mean that it's only been a few weeks since I last saw you."

With a final heave, Rokan expelled the last of the dust from her nose. Sniffing and wiping her eyes, she pushed herself to her feet and looked Teo in the eye.

"I guess I'm allergic to cleaning," she said with a half-smile.


	17. Fire and Air

Chapter 17

Fire and Air

A warm summer breeze blew through the open doorway of the Air Temple building, brushing Rokan's hair from her forehead and soothing the cut on her cheek. The dying sunlight of the afternoon glinted off of Teo's octagonal goggles that sat on his head, ready for use whenever needed. With an amused sensation fluttering in her stomach, Rokan noticed that, due to the summer weather, Teo had shed his long sleeves, revealing pale arms that were strengthened from years of wheeling his chair. When Teo didn't speak, Rokan sat down on the floor beside him, dangling her legs out the doorway and onto the worn out stairs. They sat in silence for a time, alone in the shadow of the cliff that seemed to protect all beneath it from the passing of Time itself.

"You certainly took your time."

Rokan's heart raced as Teo's voice startled her. Brushing her bangs out of her eyes, Rokan cast the crippled boy a sidelong glance.

"Excuse me?" she asked politely, though in her heart she knew very well what Teo meant.

"It's been six _months_, Rokan. What on earth have you been up to? You look more beat up than when I found you after you'd been blown up!"

Rokan clenched her jaw and hesitated. She was ashamed of the life she had led for those six months. She had left the Air Temple with such strong resolve and yet fallen even deeper into despair and weakness.

"Well?" prompted Teo.

"I haven't done much."

Teo crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow mockingly.

"I might not know you very well, Rokan, but it's _really_ easy to tell when you're lying."

"Oh, you know me better than most," Rokan said without thinking. Immediately she felt a hot flush rise to her cheeks. What was wrong with her?

Teo looked surprised and nodded contentedly.

"I'll count myself among the lucky ones then."

Rokan grinned and looked out at the Air Temple, wringing her hands. The silence that followed might have been considered awkward by some, but Rokan enjoyed it. She had forgotten how much she missed the silence…it seemed that wherever she went was filled with clamor and shouting. In most cases, she was the reason for both of these.

But she wasn't causing anything here…not good or bad, not anything. It was strange; though she was driven out of her hometown, forced to seek refuge in an ancient temple abandoned by Time, and in the company of a boy whom she had met but once, Rokan had not felt so at home since the fire that destroyed her family.

"So what's your plan now?"

Teo's voice startled Rokan out of her thoughts. A sense close to panic rose in her mind; how was she supposed to describe her failure to Teo? She had accomplished nothing good since they last parted.

"I can see that something's bothering you, Rokan," said Teo, turning the wheels on his chair so that he could look more directly at Rokan. Though they were face to face, Teo wouldn't meet Rokan's eyes. Was the sunset casting that pink light on his cheeks? "You—look, I know we barely know each other—but you can trust me. What's wrong?"

With a deep breath, Rokan sat down on the edge of the step and rested her elbows on her knees. Before she could stop herself, the entire account of her life since she left the Northern Air Temple spilled out. Admittance to her self-doubt and hints to her deepest thoughts were woven throughout, and with each word it felt as if a stone was being removed from her heart. Several times she felt a dampness arise around her eyes, but for the first time in many years she was in full control of her emotions. When she finished, she let out a long breath and with it the stress and weight of her troubles. Teo was looking at her intently now, and though the sun had long since disappeared Rokan could see his grey eyes twinkling.

"You've never said anything like this before, have you?" he asked. Rokan could hear that he was smiling.

"Well, I—no. I guess I haven't," she admitted.

"So…why me?"

Rokan's words dissolved in her throat, and she let out a few quiet stutters as she searched for a response.

"I—Idon'thaveanyonebutyou," she blurted out. Instantly she regretted her words and she put her head in her hands.

"Whoa, sorry, I can't quite decipher words that go by as fast as a hummingjay," teased Teo.

Rokan groaned and dropped her head onto her knees melodramatically.

"Don't make me say it _again_," she whined.

"Say iiiit!" Teo laughed.

With a sarcastic grunt of frustration, Rokan buried her head into her knees and sighed.

"I don't have anyone but you. You're basically my only friend. I don't know if that's sadder for you or for me.

"The truth is," Rokan continued impulsively, "I—I think of you a lot. You made a big impression on me when we talked at the Northern Air Temple. I thought you were just another mentor, like my old Firebending teachers or even my brother, but it's more than that. You keep me in check. It's like…this will come across as an extremely overdramatic analogy…it's like we're fire and air. Fire is uncontrollable if it's allowed to do whatever it wants. Air has the power to either blow the fire out or keep it alive. You could have blown me out at the Northern Air Temple, but you didn't. I—I'm not making any sense, sorry."

Rokan turned her head away from Teo and closed her eyes. A lightning fly alighted on her right arm, and Teo noticed the spider-web scars that crisscrossed over her skin, remnants of her injuries at the Northern Air Temple. For a moment he watched her; long hair slipping over her arms, the steady rise and fall of her scarred shoulders, the way her hands clenched as if she were bracing herself for the worst of something.

"Fire can't live without air…is—is that true, too?" Teo ventured cautiously.

Rokan lifted her head and looked at Teo, startling the lightning fly. It flew up near her face, and her golden eyes sparkled in the light. Despite the smudge of dirt on her forehead, the dried cut on her cheeks, the mussed up bangs that fell to her cheeks, she really was pretty.

"Yeah…I guess that is true," she whispered with a grin.

Teo's heart started to beat faster, and he smiled as well. In his mind he tried to convince himself that he was overreacting; he had met Rokan twice. They were friends.

Friends.

Good friends.

Best friends.

More than friends…

In his heart he knew that, even if it weren't true, it would become true in time.

"It's getting late," said Rokan, breaking the silence. "Won't your friends be wondering where you are?"

Teo looked up at the sky and saw the first of the stars begin to dot the dark blue canvas.

"Yeah…they probably will be. But where will you go?"

"Oh," Rokan shrugged and looked around. "I'm sure there's somewhere I can hide away in this Temple. It's strange…you'd think I'd get spooked by such an old, empty place. But I love it…it's so peaceful. It's like—like what I'd want my life to feel like someday."

Teo nodded his head in the direction where his friends had walked earlier that day.

"Come on. I know a good place for you."

Within twenty minutes, Rokan was curled up on an old stone bunk. She had pulled the golden tie out of her ponytail, allowing her hair to cascade over her back and over the edge of the bunk. It was lighter than when she had been at the Northern Air Temple…no doubt the work of the sun's rays.

"Who'd have thought a rock bed would be comfy?" she sighed contentedly.

Teo chuckled. He wheeled forwards and backwards restlessly, unwilling to end his time with Rokan but not wishing to deny her sleep. Rokan looked at him through heavy-lidded eyes, stifling a yawn.

"How do you…you know…do you…well, do you have to sleep in that thing?" she asked, nodding at the wheelchair.

Teo shook his head, not ceasing his movement.

"Nah…I can get myself out just fine, and I can usually get back in. I just have to make sure I put the brake on so it won't roll away when I'm trying to pull myself back in."

Rokan smiled sleepily.

"Just curious. Goodnight, Teo," she whispered.

"Yeah…goodnight," he responded. "Oh, and Rokan?"

"Hm?"

"Don't run away before I can say goodbye again, okay?"

"Mm."

"Right. Goodnight."

There was no response. Rokan's breathing was slow and deep now. Teo wheeled up alongside her bunk and reached out his hand, but hesitated. Then, finding his courage, he gently pushed back a bang that had fallen across Rokan's cut cheek. Her fingers twitched at his touch, but she made no sound. Teo grinned and turned away, making his way out of the building and back to his friends. Haru and The Duke flooded him with inquiries, but he shook them off with the explanation that he had simply been exploring and no, he did not uncover any more secret rooms.

Rokan slumber—her first peaceful sleep in ages—was shattered by an explosion that shook her bunk and caused dust and rubble to fall from the already cracked ceiling of the building. Her heart pounding, Rokan sprang out of the bed and looped her katana onto her back. Another rumbling nearly knocked her off her feet and she scraped her hands on a jagged scar on the stone wall. Larger bits of the ceiling began to rain down, and Rokan panicked. She tore out of the building and ran beneath an old shrine for cover. Then, all was quiet.

"Not bad, Twinkle Toes, but not good either! Try again, but this time don't be such a sissy!"

Rokan heard the scrape of Teo's wheels before the shrill shout had ended, and she shot her friend a wary, confused glance as he rolled up beside her. Before she could speak, however, Teo waved his hand dismissively.

"Nothing to worry about; that's just Toph. She said she was antsy, so naturally she insisted on dueling Aang. Claimed he needed to work on his badger-mole stance or something," he said, rolling his storm-grey eyes.

"Aang? The…the _Avatar_?" Rokan questioned incredulously.

Teo nodded nonchalantly.

"He led us here after…after our invasion of the Fire Nation failed."

Rokan dropped her head back in exasperation.

"You invaded the Fire Nation? Is there a reason this wasn't mentioned?" Sudden recollections of the strange enemy tanks in the Capital flashed in Rokan's mind. "Wait…that was _you_! You attacked on the day of the Eclipse!"

Teo raised an eyebrow. "Word travels fast, huh?"

"I was _there_!"

Teo stopped short, his hand raised and his mouth open. Rokan would have laughed had she not been preoccupied with thoughts about Zhensu, her enemy. She wondered where he was now. If he hadn't followed her, what horrible revenge could he be planning? Could she ever return to the Capital?

"You were there?" repeated Teo. "Where? What were you doing?"

"Well, I _did_ try and help the army, but I wound up bringing a little girl to a shelter. That was before I got cornered by the assa—well, his name is Zhensu."

Before she could stop herself, Rokan poured out the details of her fight with Zhensu; this seemed to be developing into a habit. There was just something about Teo…and air of welcome that encouraged Rokan to speak about her troubles.

When she had completed her unintentional monologue, Rokan looked to the ground, a flush rising to her cheeks. Several long seconds inched by, and finally she turned her gaze to Teo. It was unlike him to be so quiet. Rokan flinched in surprise when she saw Teo staring at her, his eyes glittering with sympathy. Without a word, he held his arms out welcomingly.

Despite her rotten circumstances, Rokan never ceased to hold onto her pride. He eyes flashed, and she stood up abruptly, clenching her fists.

"Don't _look_ at me like that! I don't _want_ your pity! That's all I ever get!"

Before she knew it, Rokan was shouting. Pressure pounded in her head and her vision blurred, but it was anger, not tears that impaired her so. Teo dropped his arms and instinctively back up his wheelchair. This did nothing to improve Rokan's mood.

"Yeah, see? You back up! You're afraid of me! When I'm the pitiful, homeless loser, everyone feels bad for me. They get all disgustingly sympathetic and it makes me _sick_! Then the minute I show backbone I'm suddenly terrifying! No one wants to be nice to someone who has a temper! No one wants to take pity on a jerk! Well, maybe I don't _want_ pity! Maybe I just want _help_! I don't need anyone to tell me everything will be okay, or how sorry they are for me. I just want someone who won't leave! Everyone always leaves! I want someone who won't—who won't _die_ on me!"

The pounding behind Rokan's eyes increased to such a point that she dropped to a squat and put her head between her knees. Her hands were clamped on the back of her neck, as if protecting herself from shrapnel. She screwed her eyes up against the red tint that was bordering her vision. An outburst like that hadn't occurred since Rokan's journey back to the Fire Nation with Private Zhu.

"Geez, I just wanted to give you a hug."

Rokan snapped her eyes open and lifted her head. Teo had resumed his previous position, reaching his arms out. But now, he was fighting a smile. Rokan glared at him and abruptly stood. They faced each other like this for a moment, each trying to stare the other down, before Rokan stomped forward and threw herself unceremoniously into Teo's arms. She didn't hug him back. No, she kept her fists clenched by her face while Teo clasped his hands on her back.

In truth, Rokan was afraid to hug Teo. The last time she had hugged someone, he had died in her arms mere moments after. But here, under the Western cliffs, beneath the serene statues of ancient Airbenders, they were untouchable. The Avatar was here, somewhere, and this knowledge gave Rokan a sort of comfort. She was with friends now. She was with Teo. Rokan heaved a sigh and unclenched her fists, pressing her face into Teo's soft green tunic.

"I really don't want to go back to the Fire Nation," she said bluntly.

Teo chuckled and released his arms. Rokan pushed back and leaned her elbows on Teo's bandaged knees, resting her chin on her hands.

"What should I do?" she asked imploringly.

Teo thought for a moment and ran a hand through his hair, making it stand up even more so than usual.

"You're not going to like it, but I think you ought to stay here."

"Why?"

"Well," Teo straightened his arms out over his head and stretched. "If you go back to the Fire Nation, Zhensu will find you, and he won't stop fighting you until he kills you."

"So…I'll just have to fight him back."

"No!" Teo cried. "The only way the conflict will be resolved is if one of you is dead, and I _really_ don't think you want to kill anyone. Do you have any idea what that will do to you? How much it'll tear you up inside?"

Rokan remembered the blank, glassy eyes of the two dead Yu Yan Archers in the Earth Kingdom swamps, and she nodded slowly.

"I do, actually…"

"Then don't go back. Just…leave all this behind."

"And I'll never know why any of this happened. What will happen to Zhensu? If I don't go back it's only a matter of time before he finds me. I'll have to face him eventually. It's just the matter of whether I'd prefer to fight to the death sooner or later."

Teo shook his head adamantly.

"I don't like it. Please, don't go…you'll—,"

"Oh please," Rokan interrupted. "Thanks for the vote of confidence. You said yourself, when we first met I had just been blown up. It's going to take a lot more than one guy with a couple daggers to beat me."

A laugh escaped Teo's lips, but he looked less than pleased. Their eyes, the grey and gold, met for a long moment, and Rokan felt a sadness that she hadn't experienced in a long time. She finally had someone waiting for her again…she had the hope of a better life. She knew that she couldn't afford to lose in a fight to Zhensu; not if Teo was waiting for her.

"I'll come back, Teo."

He believed it, deep down. He knew that Rokan was strong enough to survive.

She doubted it, deep down. She has seen the wrath that Zhensu could deliver, and she wasn't sure she had the strength to come back to Teo.

Perhaps it was this doubt that inspired Rokan to lean forward and plant a kiss on Teo's cheek. It was this doubt that took the words of farewell out of her mouth, leaving her to turn around and walk away. Teo called to her after he emerged from his initial stupor, but Rokan didn't turn around. She tried to convince herself that she didn't need to see Teo another time; she would see him in a matter of days. But deep in her heart, she was sure that she would not return. In truth, she almost didn't _want_ to return. She had caused so much pain, endured so much hardship, ruined so many good things. Teo deserved someone better.

Someone who wasn't so broken.


	18. Answers and Retaliation

Chapter 18

Answers and Retaliation

Rokan couldn't believe it.

It was over.

She had arrived at the Fire Nation, only to discover, through careful investigations, that Zhensu was dead. He had died during the fight on the Day of Black Sun, just after she had escaped him. There was no need to fight. No need to be afraid. She was frustrated that she had come so far for no reason; she should have just stayed at the Western Air Temple with Teo. Still, Rokan supposed it was never too late to start anew, and she began her journey West as quickly as she had come to the Capital.

She would experience peace at last.

Rokan jolted awake from her hopeful dream, hitting her head on the low ceiling of the dilapidated inn. She rubbed her head, cursing, before swinging her legs over the side of the sagging mattress and planting her feet firmly on the splinter-filled floor.

Bad idea.

Cursing again, Rokan held her feet in the air and pulled her boots closer. Luckily, she hadn't been turned into a human pincushion yet, so she was able to slip her feet into the worn out boots. Lacing them up the back, however, was a painful ordeal for her heavily bandaged hands. Rokan winced as the strain agitated her blisters. She had been training every day since she returned to the Fire Nation. Preparing. Anticipating.

And yet, Zhensu had not yet shown himself. Not even once.

In the back of her mind, Rokan knew that he was still out there. He hadn't left the city; he hadn't been killed in the battle on the Day of Black Sun. He was just waiting for her. Perhaps even toying with her. Rokan wouldn't stay in hiding for much longer, however; a once in a lifetime opportunity was drawing near and she could not afford to let it slip by.

Sozin's Comet was coming.

It was close now. It was so close that Rokan could feel fire dancing in her veins, desperate to break through her skin. She would be at her most powerful when the comet breached the atmosphere, and by the predictions of the sages that would occur that very day.

She wasn't ready.

But she had no choice.

Though the time was still early in the day, the sky darkened and became discolored. Its hue shifted from serene blue to an ominous red as the great comet drew nearer. Rokan felt as if her very heart were on fire as her Firebending power increased and seared through her veins. She took a deep breath and blinked slowly, taking in her surroundings. She stood at the top of forty stairs that lead to the entrance of an ancient shrine to a past Fire Lord. The shrine itself was well kept, with its gilded columns reflecting the flickering light of ever-burning torches. The courtyard below was cracked with age, giving way to shriveled grasses that had pushed their way through hopefully, only to be smote by the crippling heat of the Fire Nation summer. The walls that had once encompassed the courtyard had long since fallen, leaving only small remnants no more than two feet high. Beyond the walls were dilapidated soldiers' quarters, empty due to the battle being pursued that day. Rokan glanced at the sky once more just in time to see the first hint of the comet streak gold across the corner of the sky.

Suddenly, Rokan knew she was being watched. Her sarcasm seemed to flourish whenever she was afraid, so she did not even draw her katana before speaking.

"I thought you were going to make me wait all day," she said loudly.

Zhensu dropped abruptly from the ceiling where he had been poised, landing in a graceful crouch directly in front of Rokan. Rokan had believed him to be behind her; she flinched violently and stepped back, placing one hand on the hilt of her katana.

"You're hard to find," hissed Zhensu. His voice was cool and harsh, reminiscent to the pale yellow gaze that was fixed on Rokan.

"Really? I wasn't even trying to hide. You must just be losing your touch."

Zhensu tensed and settled ever so slightly into a defensive stance. Rokan drew her katana slowly and willed a spark to grow on her left palm.

"I didn't think you had the guts to face me. Yet the lamb is here, ready for slaughter."

Rokan's flame danced higher. "A lamb, huh? I thought you thought I was a monster."

"It was a mere figure of speech, I assure you!" Zhensu thrust his right arm forward, firing a miniature arrow from an unseen device beneath his sleeve.

Rokan dove to the side and released the stream of fire that had been building in her left hand. It was greater and more powerful than any bending she had accomplished before; it seared white-hot across the steps and even began to melt some of the gild on the columns. When the stream ended, Zhensu was nowhere to be found. Rokan tightened her grip on her katana and pivoted quickly.

"It's probably not in your best interests to fight me during the Comet!" she taunted.

"I attempted to dispose of you during the Eclipse!"

There was a soft thump behind Rokan and one of Zhensu's sais was thrust into her upper arm, piercing the surface of the skin like a misaimed needle. Rokan gasped and kicked her foot like an angry mule, coming into contact with Zhensu's shin. He pulled back, sliding the blade out of Rokan's arm and thereby giving her time to turn and lunge at him. Her katana met the side of his face, drawing blood above his eye, but he in turn aimed a kick at her ribs and knocked the wind out of her.

"I don't suppose you want to tell me why you're trying to kill me!" Rokan grunted, swinging her katana.

Zhensu brought his sais up in an X before his face, catching Rokan's blade between his twin ones. The two warriors pressed with all their might, coming nearly nose to nose. The black cloth over Zhensu's face was sucked in and blown out as he breathed angrily.

"I don't suppose you'd like to tell _me_ why you killed my children."

Zhensu's voice was not cruel or hoarse as it had been before. It was broken, choked with emotion. It took Rokan aback and she released the pressure on her blade, allowing Zhensu to push it from her hands. The katana clattered to the ground and skidded while Zhensu advanced and stabbed with his sais. Rokan began to flip into a back handspring, hoping to strike Zhensu's chin as she had done on the day of the eclipse, but she was thwarted; Zhensu hooked his own foot around hers and stomped it down, bringing Rokan down flat on her back. The impact sent an unpleasant shudder through her body, and she grunted in pain. Before she could get up, Zhensu had his heel on her throat.

Choking, Rokan moved to push Zhensu's foot away, but the assassin slammed his sais into the cloth of her black gloves, pinning them down to the ground.

"Well?"

Rokan's vision was darkening. She couldn't breathe. Was it really going to be over so quickly?

"I eagerly await my meeting with the Fire Lord; it will be a joy to tell him how easily you were defeated."

_The Fire L—Zhensu is working for Ozai?_

Rokan's eyes widened and rage pulsed through her. Was Ozai at the bottom of this pit of hatred? Was he to blame for this assault? A burning sensation rippled through her throat, and Rokan released a tiny puff of flame with her remaining breath. It wasn't much, but it was enough to startle Zhensu, and he lessened his weight on her throat. With a tremendous grunt, Rokan swug her arms upwards, cutting her skin on the blades of the sais as they tore through her gloves, and clapped her hands over Zhensu's ears. The assassin stumbled, and Rokan was freed. She began to retrieve her katana, but thought better of it. Instead she set both her fists aflame and thrust them forward, releasing two massive fireballs toward Zhensu. He retreated and leapt onto one of the columns, crouching on its nearly smooth surface with unbelievable skill. He remained there, and the two enemies glared at each other.

"So you're working for the Fire Lord? I suppose he sent you to kill me?" growled Rokan.

"He only quickened my attack!" Zhensu snapped, "I would have found you sooner or later had I searched on my own. I wouldn't let my family go un-avenged!"

This time Zhensu moved his left arm, sliding three throwing stars out from his sleeve and hurling them at Rokan. She was ready this time, however; she had prepared her Breath of Fire. With a swing of her katana, Rokan knocked two of the stars out of the air and released a great stream of flame from her mouth, melting the edge of one star that still flew towards her. Zhensu dodged the flames and leapt to the side of Rokan, drawing his sais from his belt and spinning them into a tighter grip.

Millisecond tactics flew through Rokan's mind. She was at a disadvantage under the canopied terrace of the Temple. Zhensu was like an agile cat on the columns, able to poise himself wherever he chose. She had to get him down the steps, out in the open. They would be more evenly matched then.

Not entirely confident that she would succeed, Rokan edged to the top of the stairs and vaulted herself backwards, shooting flames from her feet. Zhensu was delayed, and Rokan crashed into a backward roll on the uneven stone courtyard. Perhaps not the best decision, but it got her where she needed to be. She landed shakily on her feet, her back screaming from the sudden impact. Zhensu landed in a crouch from an acrobatic flip and rose slowly, spinning his sais in his hands.

"Why are you dragging this out so long?" Zhensu taunted, "What do you have left to delay for?"

Rokan deflected a blow with her katana and brought her heel to the side of Zhensu's head.

"You think I'm just going to go down easy when I've still got a fighting chance?"

"A fighting chance? _Did you give my children a fighting chance before you burned them alive?_"

Zhensu's blade was driven into Rokan's left thigh and she screamed, dropping hard onto one knee. As she struggled to rise, Zhensu struck another blow on her forehead, and another on her shoulder. Anger boiled up inside of her, and a searing heat tore through Rokan's throat. When she opened her eyes, her vision was tainted with red and she breathed out fire from her mouth.

"It. Wasn't. _Me_."

Her voice scarcely seemed to be her own. The syllables were distorted by the flames that poured out with her breath as she picked up her katana and slashed its blade deep into Zhensu's side.

After that, all was a blur. The power the comet brought to Rokan was overwhelming, and it was not long before all that surrounded them was consumed by flames. Zhensu and Rokan's blood mingled on the courtyard stones as it flowed freely from the numerous wounds which they dealt each other.

Finally, Rokan's exhaustion became her downfall. Zhensu threw her into the stone steps of the temple, the crack of her ribs seeming to echo through the air. Rokan tried to bring her katana up to strike Zhensu, but the assassin slashed his dagger down onto her wrist. Such immense pain followed that Rokan blacked out for a moment. When she opened her eyes, she was aware of blood pouring down her arm from her numb hand. Zhensu had his twin sai raised and began to plunge it downward into Rokan's throat, but a final burst of adrenaline enabled her to grip his wrist with her left hand and twist it sharply. The dagger was dropped as Zhensu's bones cracked, and Rokan caught it before it hit the ground. Zhensu clasped his good hand at her throat, but it was too late. Twice Rokan stabbed the blade into Zhensu's side before kicking him off of her and slamming him into the temple staircase. The assassin coughed and sputtered, struggling to draw breath, and Rokan stumbled down the steps and into the courtyard, clutching her wounded arm to herself. But she had lost too much blood to continue, and she fell to her knees. She had to get help. She had t—

A piercing shriek shattered the air as the bloody blade embedded itself in Rokan's stomach. She spat blood out of her mouth and looked around in horror, just in time to see Zhensu's arm drop limply to the ground. She had killed him…but not before he got his revenge. Rokan heaved for breath but could draw little, and she collapsed onto her back in the center of the courtyard and let out a hoarse scream of agony.

"EeeeeeeyAUGH!"

Blood...so much blood...

"No...oh, spirits, what have I done?"

"Rokan, it's okay."

There they were. Ghostly white, wispy. A pale light emanated from their beings, obscuring their faces, but Rokan knew their identities immediately. Her hoarse voice could barely come above a whisper. Another person would have thought the apparition unbelievable…Rokan had been expecting it. Hoping for it.

"Mom..."

"I'm so proud of you, sweetheart."

"Dad..."

"It's alright, Rokan."

"H-how can you say that? It's NOT alright! I'm a monster!"

"No, sweetheart, don't think that. You've done well."

Her mother...her beloved mother...her voice was distant and it echoed as if she were calling from atop a high mountain.

"Rokan."

It felt as if fire were burning her eyes. Rokan screwed her lids shut against the brilliant light that glowed from the form of her brother Taiko.

"Rokan, we love you. Don't ever forget that."

Somehow Rokan found the strength to lift her hand. Shaking, she reached out to her family in desperation. Was she imagining it or...were they growing clearer?

"Please, take me home...I don't want to stay here anymore...please."

Rokan whimpered like a lost dog, stretching her fingers toward her brother. Through the glow, she thought she saw Taiko smile. His pale hand, still that of the thirteen year old boy who had perished beneath a fallen beam, extended to meet hers. In a collision that sparked both heat and cold in Rokan's body, their hands clasped.

"Yes...I'm leaving...I'm finally...leaving..."

Rokan's breath grew shallow and she felt the weight begin to leave her limbs. The pain in her right arm ceased to exist as her older brother pulled her to her feet. The faces of her mother and father became clear, and they smiled at Rokan with eyes filled with gentle love.

"I missed you so much," Rokan whispered happily. "But you came back for me after all."

Taiko's smile softened and his eyes grew sympathetic.

"I'm sorry, Ro'. But not today."

Words stuck in Rokan's throat and horror consumed her. Her parents were no longer smiling. Taiko's fingers loosened around hers and he let go, sending her crashing back to the hellish ground of life. The agony in her right arm increased tenfold and blood gushed out of the wound in her stomach. Rokan screamed in pain and shuddered in her pool of gore. It was as if she never got up at all.

"No...DAMMIT, TAKE ME WITH YOU! WHY AM I STILL HERE?"

There was no response. The sky reddened as Sozin's Comet approached and a fleet of airships roared through the sky. Zhensu's lifeless body lay broken on the steps of the temple, his sais cast on the ground. They would have no use now.

"I DON'T WANT TO STAY! I DON'T WANT TO LI-"

Rokan's shriek was cut short by a heaving cough that brought an unholy amount of blood and bile up out of her mouth through her lungs. The pool beneath her mangled body became a sea. The strength to speak left her.

_I should be dead by now...why aren't I?_

As her vision faded, Rokan's life since she shed the guise of Zoai passed before her. She saw her skirmish with Jet, the explosion under the Air Temple, her encounter with Teo-wonderful, wise Teo-the Yu Yan Archers in the Swamp, Baht and Lu Bo, her unexpected romance with Izu, its sorrowful end, and Zhensu's continuous pursuit.

_I've made so many mistakes...I've caused so much pain. So why am I even _allowed_ to live?_

There was no one to answer her now. Who did she expect? Did she really think that Taiko would come back? He had made it clear that Death did not welcome her. Rokan lost consciousness as the comet streaked overhead. She knew of the Avatar's plans. _He_ would bring justice.

_The Avatar was created to maintain balance in the world. But for his existence to have meaning there must also be chaos. Maybe I wasn't made to bring justice...I can only...destroy..._

Where was she? It was all just a blur of sound and color. Once she thought she saw a familiar face, but then it all faded to blackness once more and she was no longer aware of the world. At one moment she swore that her mother was with her and that she bent down, brushing Rokan's forehead with a kiss. But Isa was dead. They were all dead.

"They're all...dead..."

Rokan whispered these words often without even realizing it. A hum of murmuring voices resonated in her ears, but she could never understand their words. The faint presence of light fluxuated in brightness, so Rokan could only assume that days were passing. She had no idea how long it was before she was fully conscious.

She was lying on a soft bed fitted with pure white sheets. The walls around her were draped in red velvet and the floor was a dark grey marble. The Fire Nation insignia was embroidered in gold on the curtain that obstructed the open doorway. Other beds were lined up beside hers, and Rokan thought she saw a Water Tribe warrior practicing walking with a crutch. She herself was bandaged heavily, and her forehead was void of Taiko's cloth. Wondering where it had gotten to, Rokan turned her head and drew in a sharp breath.

A crippled boy in a wheeled chair was at her bedside, his dark head resting on his arms that he had crossed on the edge of the mattress. Rokan could tell by his breathing that he was not asleep, though his eyes were hidden from view.

"Teo?" she asked weakly.

Her ever-faithful friend from the Northern Air Temple sat up with a jolt. There were dark circles beneath his eyelids, and his dark grey eyes were bloodshot. He seemed unsure whether to smile or grimace as he looked at Rokan.

"You made it…I knew you would," he said quietly.

The corner of Rokan's mouth twitched, but even that was painful.

"Was I that bad?"

Teo's brow furrowed and he nodded, casting his eyes to the floor.

"You—you were pretty much gone when you were brought here. There wasn't much hope of saving you. Whatever it was that was keeping you alive…I'm glad you hung on to it."

Teo's voice broke and he pressed his hands to his face as if trying to block out the memory of all he had seen in the past few days. Rokan blinked slowly, her mind still fuzzy with exhaustion. It was several long seconds before Teo took a deep breath and looked Rokan in the eye with a smile.

"It was stupid of me to worry," he said brightly, though no amount of cheerfulness could hide the emotion in his tone, "you don't give up easily. The first time we met you had just gotten blown up."

Rokan smiled feebly and lifted her left hand. After a moment's surprised hesitation, Teo grasped her hand in his. They looked softly at each other, Teo reaching forward to brush a strand of hair out of Rokan's eye.

"How much do you remember?" he prompted gently.

Rokan sighed and closed her eyes. It was all a blur of fire and hatred. Why did she _have_ to remember?

"After I lost consciousness, not much," she said finally. "I barely even know what happened during…during the battle."

Teo inhaled sharply. When Rokan opened her eyes, Teo was looking down at her with a strange expression on his face. Pity? Anguish?

"Rokan…Rokan do you remember what happened to you?"

A cold feeling settled in Rokan's heart.

"Vaguely," she said tentatively. "W—why, Teo?"

Teo said nothing, but hung his head. His grip on Rokan's hand tightened slightly. Rokan's heart was pounding and she clenched her fists.

A gasp of horror rang through the infirmary, drawing looks from patients and caretakers alike. Ignoring her audience, Rokan wrenched her right arm out from beneath the bed sheets, screwing up her face against the pain. She could feel blood soaking through the bandages on her stomach, but she had to see for herself. Choking back tears, Rokan held her right hand up in front of her face…and saw nothing.

Her arm, still faintly scarred from the explosion at the Northern Air Temple, tapered in a bloody, bandaged stump. A droplet of the red liquid fell from the dressings and onto Rokan's nose.

"No…oh, no," she stammered.

"Rokan—," began Teo, but Rokan shook her head vigorously.

_Just when I thought I'd been destroyed as much as possible…_

With a thud, Rokan let her blunt right arm drop onto the bed as she shut her eyes. Teo retained his grip on her hand as she lay, not crying, not sleeping, but merely wallowing in the aching feeling of utter defeat. Her hand was gone…her life as a fighter was over. Now all she could do was surrender to failure.


	19. An Era of Peace

Chapter 19  
An Era of Peace

It was about three days before Rokan regained enough strength to walk. Leaning heavily on the back of Teo's wheeled chair, she stepped gingerly onto the porch overlooking the courtyard of the Palace. With a tiny grunt of determination, Rokan walked a few steps by herself and rested her arms on the railing of the porch. Teo rolled up next to her, shifting his chair so that he was at an angle and therefore more level with Rokan. The wind blew their hair into their eyes as Rokan held her right arm out in front of her, looking dejectedly at the bandaged stump.

"You know," Teo began softly, "I've been in this chair for as long as I can remember…my whole life. I couldn't walk, so I learned how to fly. As much as we want to believe it, we have no limits, Rokan. You'll get through this, and you'll adapt to something greater."

Rokan drew a deep, shaky breath.

"I—I just need a minute by myself Teo."

Teo nodded knowingly and began to back up. Turning, he paused and said quietly over his shoulder:

"Oh, and another thing: technology advances every day at an amazing rate. My dad is already drawing up plans for something that will get my out of this chair. Maybe he can do the same for you."

Rokan did not reply. She didn't even nod to indicate that she heard what he said. How could he expect her to hold on to hope when everything she did seemed to backfire against her? The strong breeze whipped Rokan's loose hair into her face, brushing the strands against Taiko's headband. The wind made her eyes water and though she couldn't find the resolve to let out her distress herself, the very forces of nature brought a tear out of Rokan's eye. She wished it wouldn't fall; she was so sick of crying.

Unsure of how long it was that she stayed on the porch, Rokan started when she heard the scrape of Teo's wheels on the stone floor. She sniffed and pushed her bangs out of her eyes before turning to face him.

"There's someone who wants to talk to you, Rokan. She's just inside," said Teo, gesturing back at the door of the infirmary.

Rokan furrowed her brow and grimaced as she walked back to Teo. With a hint of a smile, Teo held out his hand to her. Their fingers laced together, and Rokan didn't feel the need to lean so heavily on her friend.

When she came back into the infirmary, Rokan halted abruptly. There was a young woman seated on the edge of Rokan's bed. Two tiny children were with her, giggling and bouncing on her lap. As Rokan approached, they grinned at her and tugged at their mother, who looked over her shoulder at Rokan. She had a beautiful face with large dark eyes and velvety black hair that was tied away from her face. Her complexion was slightly too pale, as if she had spent too much time away from the sunlight. As Teo and Rokan approached, the mother slipped her children off of her lap and nudged them away. The boy and girl toddled happily away and out of sight while their mother stood and walked around to the other side of the bed.

"Are—are you Rokan?" the woman's voice rang out in a clear, flowing tone.

Rokan swallowed and nodded, still gripping Teo's hand for support. The woman looked at Rokan with eyes filled with sympathy. Her gaze slid across Rokan's scarred face, the bandages around her waist and finally the blood-stained dressings on her severed right arm.

"Oh, child—I am Azia; I am married to Zhensu."

An icy feeling settled on Rokan's heart and she almost lost her balance. Teo looked at her with concern, but she slipped her hand from his.

"Leave us, please," she whispered to him.

Teo nodded and disappeared on to the porch as quickly as he came, leaving Rokan and Azia face to face. Rokan rubbed her bandaged stump in terror, a lump rising in her throat. So those two children…they were Zhensu's family.

"I—I'm s-so sorry…" she choked out faintly.

Azia let out a little moan of compassion and held her arms out to Rokan. Stumbling slightly, Rokan fled to her and buried her face into the woman's shoulder, sobs racking her body. After the first few tears there were none left to shed, and Rokan succumbed to dry, heaving coughs that barely resembled crying. Azia held her close, guiding her down onto the bed where they sat, Rokan's head cradled in Azia's arms and her handless arm limp in her lap.

"I'm sorry…I'm sorry…" Rokan whispered over and over.

"Oh, you poor soul," soothed Azia, "you have nothing to apologize for. It was Zhensu who was in the wrong, and he was forced into devastation by that tyrant Ozai. Do not blame yourself."

Pulling away, Rokan searched Azia's warm eyes for truth.

"But…but I—I k-killed him!" Rokan cried hoarsely. "You've got to hate me for what I did! I tore your family apart! I'm no better than Ozai!"  
Azia blinked.

"Killed him? You mean…you mean they didn't tell you?"

With wide eyes, Rokan shook her head. Azia smiled broadly and put her hand on Rokan's cheek.

"Dear girl…he lived."

A sickening clash of terror and relief made Rokan break into a cold sweat as she looked at Azia in utter disbelief.

"What? But…how?"

Azia could barely hold back her smiles.

"Keep in mind, dear one, your friends wondered the same thing of you when they carried you in here. My husband is strong, and the wounds he sustained were just shy of fatal. He is leaving the care of the healers today, and that is why I have come to you."

Rokan scrambled to her feet and stepped behind the end of the bed, putting the dark-stained wood between herself and Azia.

"How can you be so forgiving? Wait-," Rokan screwed up her eyes and dug her palm into her forehead. "How are you even here? You're supposed to be dead!"

Azia's expression darkened and she rubbed her wrists idly. For the first time, Rokan noticed that they bore faint scars of rawness, and it provoked her to resume her place on the bed beside the woman.

"It was Ozai," Azia said bitterly, glaring at the wall across the room. "Zhensu explained everything to me. You were stirring up trouble, and Ozai needed you stopped. He needed someone skilled, someone who could be trusted to finish you off. But Ozai knew that if Zhensu caught wind of the cruel nature of his task, he would take no part in it. There was no way Zhensu would concede to assassinate a child who had herself been oppressed by the Fire Lord! So Ozai sent his soldiers to our home. They—they broke down the doors and took my children from me before clapping us all in irons. After that, Zhensu told me, they blocked off the exits and burnt our home to the ground, stowing myself and my children away in a covered cart before anyone could see.

"I don't know how long we were in the dungeons; only that it took a great toll on my children. They were too young to be shut away in the dark, kept barely alive on disgusting rations and restrained with manacles."

Azia paused and took a deep breath, blinking several times.

"But we are released now. Little Zya and Kyozu have recovered miraculously quickly…I cannot express how grateful I am that they are safe, and that they still have a father."

Not entire sure of how she might comfort the woman, Rokan placed a hand awkwardly on her companion's pale shoulder.

"I still don't know how you can forgive me so easily. Whether it was my fault or not, I still nearly murdered your husband. Aren't you at least a little bitter?"  
Azia looked at Rokan with her large dark eyes.

"I was at first," she admitted, "But in truth, I do believe you are the greatest victim of us all. You don't need any more enemies, Rokan. It's time you led a life of safety and comfort; there is finally peace in this world! You are perhaps the most deserving of a rest from war."

Rokan smiled for the first time in weeks. She did feel ready for a rest. At last she had the chance to live a real life; no longer would she have to be on the run. She could make friends without retaining a fear of losing them. She could finally experience real peace.

"Thank you, Azia. You've been so kind…but I still feel guilty for what I did to Zhensu. If there is any way I could…if there is anything I can do to make it up to you, will you tell me?"

Azia put a slender hand to her chin in a good-natured, overly dramatic mime of thinking.

"How about this: when you are ready, promise to come and see us. I know it may take some time before you feel you can face Zhensu, but please…" Azia trailed off and looked hopefully at Rokan, who could scarcely believe it.

"I—of course. If you'll have me," she stuttered.

Azia smiled. A loudening chatter of small voices met their ears, and both the woman and the bandaged girl turned to look at the door.

Zhensu stood there, clothed in a simple white tunic and brown pants. His face was patched with bandages and he walked with a slight stiffness so as to not upset the bindings on his ribs. Kyozu skipped ahead of him, and little Zya, the spitting image of her father, held tightly to Zhensu's fingers with both her hands, uneager to release him from her grasp.

Kyozu stopped at the door and bolted in to his mother, who swept him up and covered his pale cheeks with kisses. Zya grinned and waved to her mother with her elbow, as using her hands would require her to free her father's hand.

Rokan stood and faced Zhensu, and for once they remained where they were, uninclined to rush at each other. Zhensu looked so different without the dark mask covering his face and the headband across his brow. Despite the faint bags under his eyes and the indentations in his cheeks, he looked younger. His pale yellow eyes were no longer rimmed with red, and for once they looked kind and warm. He was no killer. Rokan felt an unshakable guilt as she dwelt on the fact that she had been the cause of his pain and trauma. But no…she couldn't think like that. Azia had forgiven her. And if Azia had received the information from Zhensu, it must mean…

Zya swung her father's hand slightly, looking up at him with confusion on her round face. Zhensu smiled down at her with a beautiful expression of peace and love before turning his gaze once more to Rokan. His smile did not fade.

A lump thrust itself into Rokan's throat and she put her hand to her mouth, unsure of how to respond. Shaking, she lowered her hand and smiled back at Zhensu, taking deep breaths in an attempt to slow her pounding heart. Zhensu's smile broadened as though he was holding back laughter, and he nodded lightly.

And in that moment…all was forgiven.

The sun had never shone brighter than on that following day when Rokan left the infirmary. She barely waited for the healers to perform their final evaluation of her health before she leapt off the bed and ran for the curtained doorway, out of the infirmary, down the columned hall, with her pale tunic fluttering as she ran. It felt good to run again. The stitching in her stomach was barely felt, the wound in her thigh already healed. There, just ahead, was the last doorway, thrown open to coax in the dry summer breeze. Pounding out all her adrenaline, Rokan bolted the last few yards and burst into the fresh air, unspeakable joy filling her as the warm sun fell on her skin. The dry, prickly grass felt as good as silk to her bare feet. She was out. She was healed. She was free.

A familiar voice called her name, and she spun around to see Teo, grinning elatedly, resting in his wheeled chair just outside the doorway. He looked healthier, stronger. There was a new color in his cheeks, and for the first time Rokan saw that his legs were not bandaged.

"Rokan! You won't believe what my dad is working on! He's making me leg braces! If he can work out the jointing process, he says I might be able to walk!"

Rokan could find no way to respond as Teo's joyful cries rang out to her. Her crippled healer had tears in his eyes as he wheeled himself closer toward her.

"I tried them on for the first time just now," he said, "And Rokan…I stood. I actually stood!"

The two of them stood there, facing each other, and there was such a feeling of happiness in the air neither had ever experienced before. Then, in a sudden burst of confidence, Rokan thrust out her hand and grasped Teo by the collar. In a sudden, shocking instant, their lips met. Surprised, but not at all displeased, Teo breathed slowly and closed his eyes. He raised his gentle hands and placed them on Rokan's cheeks, brushing back her hair as he did so. Rokan's bandaged stump of her right arm rested on Teo's chest, but she didn't even notice her handicap. Right now, she was invincible.

The seconds they kissed felt like hours, and when they pulled apart time seemed to right itself to its previous rhythm. They were both slightly shocked, and the silence between them was deafening.

"Fire needs air!"

Not entirely meaning to, Rokan blurted these words out with little thought. Her tone was almost defensive, as if she dared Teo to contradict her.  
But he didn't. On the contrary, he burst into jubilant laughter, a suit which Rokan quickly followed. The sparrowkeets chittered in the trees that rustled lazily in the hot breeze, and the sun beamed down on the two lovers, who at last had found cause for laughter.

"So…what's your plan now?" asked Teo cheerfully, dropping his hands from Rokan's face to her shoulders.

Rokan laughed brightly and shook her head.

"Plan? For once, I don't need one."

She smiled, and the sunlight sparkled in her golden eyes, making Teo's heart leap. He pulled her closer and planted a kiss on her nose. So much joy was between them, they wondered why they didn't rise to the clouds.


	20. Epilogue

Chapter 20  
Epilogue

Eight years passed before Rokan once again journeyed up the mountainside to the Northern Air Temple. The damage she had caused so many years ago could barely be seen, and the Temple was as lively as ever with new inhabitants. The Mechanist's contraptions did not take up so much space as they originally had, and the former refugees who called the Air Temple their home had taken it upon themselves to restore the great stone structure to its original state.

The columns that lined the corridor down which Rokan walked were reminiscent of the columns of the gas chamber which she had so dutifully sabotaged. This time, however, she did not sneak about like a thief in the shadows; this time, all eyes were on her. The crowd was small, but filled with her closest friends. Somewhere, she knew, were Zhensu and Azia. Zya, now ten, was on her tiptoes, peering over eleven year old Kyozu's shoulder. Even the elderly couple, behind whose storehouse Rokan had taken shelter, was present. But Rokan had only eyes for the young man at end of the hall, just outside the door to the balcony, which he had gone ahead to open. He stood straight and tall, metal braces clamped firmly on his legs. He had been off his crutches for nearly two years now, and was finally strong enough to walk unaided. Rokan quickened her step, her long white and red dress billowing out behind her. With a startled, delighted cry, she held her right arm to her head, keeping Taiko's headband in place, as well as the sheer white cloth that streamed from it. A shout from someone in the crowd made her stutter to a halt, and she abruptly flung her small cluster of yellow blossoms over her shoulder. A delighted squeal that could only have been from Zya ensured that Rokan's aim was true.

Without bothering to look at the child who had caught her flowers, Rokan gathered up her skirt in her hand and ran as quickly as she could down the last yards of the corridor, crashing into her beloved in a glorious collision. Teo smiled down at her from his considerable height, brushed her hair from her face as he always did, and the two shared their first kiss as one on the mosaic balcony of the Northern Air Temple.

They remained in the Northern Air Temple for several months before creating a home in a coastal city in the Southern Earth Kingdom. The sea made it easy for Rokan to journey to the Fire Nation when she wished, to visit Zhensu and Azia or to pay homage to her family's grave, and the warm climate was very agreeable. Teo opened a mechanic shop which became quite prosperous. Despite the loss of her hand, Rokan had retrained herself in Firebending and the way of the sword. She found employment as a teacher for individual students, though she took care to instill in them the belief that Firebending was an ancient, traditional art, not purely used for warfare.

After a year, Rokan ended her private lessons temporarily, as she and Teo welcomed Tima, a little girl with her mother's eyes. Two years after, a boy, called Izu. Life was easy, the days were calm, but Rokan felt no boredom. She had so long experienced a world of danger and trauma that now, even the most mundane of tasks was a blessing in her eyes.

She still, of course, remembered the pain she had experienced in the days of her childhood. The scars she bore served as physical memories of the battles she had fought and every so often she was plagued with nightmares of her trials. And, of course, Taiko's bandana was forever secured to her forehead.  
That is, until, when she was an old woman, Rokan finally pulled the cloth from her head. The little baby in her lap, a beautiful mix of Water Tribe and Fire Nation heritage, caught the cloth in her little fists. Rokan chuckled and chided her little granddaughter lightly.

"Now, now, little Tekoa," she smiled, the corners of her eyes crinkling with the lines of age, "This is not for you yet! This is for your mama."

The child stared up at her grandmother with wide yellow eyes and watched in dismay as the white cloth was pulled from her tiny fingers. The child was soon handed back to her mother, and Tima accepted the white headband with great shock. Rokan assured her that it was what she wanted, and begged her to take care of the old cloth. For countless years, the headband had been the one thing binding her to her old home, to her family. Now, at last, as she neared the end of her life, she found it within herself to let go.

Tekoa groaned when she heard the tinkle of the bells on the door. Seeing as how it was late in the night and the shop was closed, there was only one explanation as to who was at her doorstep.

"We're closed!" Tekoa shouted, though she had little hope that the visitor would leave.

"Then why is the door unlocked?"

Tekoa closed her eyes in a silent plea to the spirits that she could keep her temper under control.

"I must have forgotten. We're definitely closed, though."

"Oh, okay." Tekoa's unwanted customer began wandering around the garage, touching automobiles and tools at random with child-like curiosity.  
Keeping her back turned to the customer, Tekoa yanked off her work glove in silent frustration.

"That means you should leave now."

"Well, see, I'd love to, but the thing is…"

The customer sidled up next to Tekoa and leaned on the tool-cabinet beside her. Tekoa had no choice but to look at her visitor: a seventeen year old WaterTribe girl with dark hair and electric blue eyes.

"I really need you to fix this bike, Tekoa."

Tekoa sighed, her golden eyes meeting the girl's blue ones.

"I don't work for free."

"How about you do it for half-price?" heckled the girl.

"How about you come back when you're not broke?" Tekoa said in a bored voice.

"Half-price, and I'll throw in a free Firebending lesson! I mean, I am the Avatar."

"I'm not a Firebender."

"Waterbending, then."

"I'm not a Waterbender."

"What about Ear-,"

"I'm not a bender period. Cough up the money or leave."

The girl growled in frustration and pushed past Tekoa roughly.

"Ugh, fine! See if I ever come to Glider Mechanics again."

_Oh, you'll be back, Korra_, thought Tekoa, a slight smile growing on her lips. With the jingle of the bells, the Avatar stalked out of the garage.

Tekoa let out a faint chuckle and rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand. Reaching back, she clasped the tie that held her dark hair off her neck and pulled it out, allowing her short locks to hang freely. With a sudden sadness in her eyes, Tekoa looked around the big shop, such an upgrade from the little building at the coast. The rumble of the automobiles that chugged about Republic City was eternally disrupting the quiet, and the amount of customers who came for repairs to their vehicles were nearly innumerable. With a small sigh, Tekoa turned her eyes to the old, stained white cloth that was clasped loosely in her thick work glove.

"What do you think of this, Grandma?" she whispered quietly. "I bet you never thought I'd meet the Avatar."


End file.
